GIFT    OF 
JANE  K.SATHER 


. LETTERS 


OF 


J  O  H  tf     R  AW  D  O  TL  P  H, 


A  YOUNG   RELATIVE; 


EMBRACING    A.   SERIES    OF   YEARS, 


FHOM 


EARLY  YOUTH,  TO  MATURE  MANHOOD, 


PHILADELPHIA:  • 

• 
CAREY,    L.EA   &   BLANCH ARU 

1834. 


ENTERED,  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834,  by  CARET, 
LEA  &  BLANCHARD,  in  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of  Peniv 
sylvania. 


'- 


f.niGfJS   &  CO.,  PRINTERS. 


NOTICE   TO   THE    READER. 


THE  following  letters  have  been  selected,  from 
among  several  hundred,  as  most  fit  for  publication. 

The  sentiment  of  filial  devotion  towards  the  author, 
which,  for  many  years,  constituted  a  large  portion  of 
my  moral  existence,  together  with  the  want  of  criti 
cal  acumen,  may  so  far  mislead  the  judgment,  as  to 
make  me  overrate  the  merit  of  these  letters.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  I  shall  make  no  apology  for  giving  them  to 
the  public :  neither  have  they  a  right  to  require,  nor 
shall  they  receive,  any  explanation  of  motives,  that 
may  be  personal  to  myself,  in  making  the  publica 
tion. 

Suffice  it  to  say,  that,  I  think,  they  will  do  credit 
to  American  literature;  and  add  something  to  the 
fame  of  a  man,  who  long  held  a  distinguished  rank 
among  American  orators,  and  statesmen;  and  whose 
genius  has  added  not  a  little  to  his  country's  glory. 


LETTERS 


op 


JOHN     RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  I. 

Georgetown,  Jan.  31, 1806. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  SEND  you  by  the  New  Orleans  mail,  "  letters  writ 
ten  by  the  great  Mr.  Pitt,  afterwards  Earl  of  Chatham,  to 
his  nephew,  when  at1  college.''  You  know  my  opinion  of 
Lord  Chatham:  that  he  was  at  once  the  greatest  practical 
statesman  that  ever  lived,  and  the  most  transcendent  orator. 
With  all  this,  he  was  a  truly  good  man,  (indeed,  he  must 
have  been,  since  virtue  is  essential  to  great  excellence  in 
laudable  pursuits^  and  the  most  elegant  and  polished  gen 
tleman  of  his  time. 

When  I  speak  of  a  practical  statesman,  I  wish  you 
to  understand  me.  A  man  may  possess  great  theoretic 
knowledge  on  any  subject,  and  yet  be  a  poor  practitioner. 
To  take  an  example  from  the  profession  which  you  seem  to 
have  chosen,  in  preference  to  any  other, — a  man  might  have 
all  the  best  medical  authors  by  heart,  know  the  treatment 
which  is  considered  to  be  most  judicious  for  every  disease, 
and  the  properties  of  every  medicine,  so  as,  in  conversation, 

2 


10  LETTERS  OF 

to  vie  with  any,  and  to  outshine  the  greater  part  of  his  pro 
fession,  and  yet  be  so  deficient  in  practice,  as,  when  brought 
to  a  patient,  to  be  unable  to  tell  what  his  disease  was,  and,  of 
course,  how  it  was  to  have  been  treated,— whether  the  pulse 
indicated  depletion  or  stimulants.  Such  is  the  difference 
between  theory  and  practice;  one  is  disease  on  paper,  where 
all  goes  smoothly,  and  the  patient  infallibly  recovers:  the 
other  is  disease  in  the  subject  of  malady,  in  man  himself, 
where  symptoms  are  complicated,  and  the  various  conside 
rations  of  age,  sex,  and  condition,  in  the  patient,  baffle  the 
most  skilful,  and  dismay  the  most  experienced — where  the 
patient  dies. 

I  fear,  from  the  shortness  of  your  letter,  from  the  in 
correctness  of  its  orthography  and  syntax,  and  from  the 
omission  of  some  material  words,  that  want  of  paper  was 
not  your  ONLY  cause  for  omitting  to  write  the  week  before 
last.  Enclosed  you  have  someVhing  to  obviate  that  objec 
tion. — 

"  There  is  only  20  more  to  carry  down*" 

Note. — A  verb  DOES  NOT  agree  with  its  nominative 
IN  number  and  person. 

"  Plowing " — which  in  the  preceding  line  you  have 
spelt  correctly. 

"  No  accidents  has  befallen."    A  verb  does  not,  &c. 

"  The  reason  that  I  did  not  (the  word  write  omitted) 
last  week,  was,  &c."    No  attention  to  points,  at  all. 

Number  of  lines  in  your  letter,  nine, 

errors  four;* 

Surely  you  cannot  have  read  over,  once  what  you  wrote. 
Moreover,  the  hand  is  a  very  bad  one;  many  words  blotted, 
and  every  part  of  it  betrays  negligence  and  a  carelessness  of 
excelling — a  most  deplorable  symptom  in  a  young  man. 

Is  Dr.  Robinson  in  Farmville,  and  is  he  likely  to  remain 
there?  Would  you  prefer  being  at  Hamp.  Sid.  Coll.  to  stay- 

*  Besides  omitting  the  year  1806. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  H 

ing  at  Bizarre?  i  am  very  uneasy  about  you,  my  dear  boy. 
In  your  letters  I  see  no  trace  of  your  studies — no  mention 
made  of  Ovid  or  Homer — nothing  as  to  your  manner  of  dis 
posing  of  your  time.  As  soon  as  I  am  well  enough,  I  shall 
set  off  for  Bizarre.  God  bless  you. 

Your  affectionate  friend 
and  relation, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

What  has  become  of  the  journal  that  I  directed  you  to 
keep? 

Have  you  ever  received  the  two  banks  notes  that  I  sent 
you. 

Do  not  imitate  your  father's  handwriting — it  is  a  running 
hand,  unfit  for  you  at  present.  You  must  learn  to  write 
distinctly  first,  as  children  learn  to  read,  letter  by  letter, 
syllable  by  syllable,  word  by  word.  The  first  page  of  this 
letter  is  a  very  good  copy  for  you — particularly  the  date* 


LETTER  IL 

Georgetown,  Feb.  2, 1806. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  to  you,  yesterday,  by  the  New  Orleans 
mail,  and,  through  mistake,  dated  my  letter  in  January.  I 
would  have  you,  my  clear  boy,  consider  the  little  book, 
which  I  sent  at  the  same  time,  as  coming  from  my  head  and 
heart,  and  addressed  to  your  own.  Our  situation,  and  that  of 
its  writer  and  his  nephew,  are  not  dissimilar.  Let  us,  then, 
profit  by  their  example.  Whilst  I  endeavour  to  avail  my 
self  of  the  wisdom  and  experience  of  the  one,  do  you  also 
strive  to  imitate  the  amiable  docility  of  the  other;  and  so 
may  God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy. 


12  LETTERS  OF 

Above  all  things  abstain  from  going,  on  any  occasion,  to 
Farmville,  when  you  can  possibly  avoid  it.  You  can  meet 
no  company  there,  from  whom  you  can  derive  improvement 
of  any  sort;  but  much  of  an  opposite  description.  Tell 
Sam,  that  I  rely  upon  him.  Endeavour  to  prevent  the 
wood  from  being  pillaged,  and  ask  Mr.  Johnston  to  assist 
you.  Keep  a  watch  upon  all  trespassers,  and  threaten  them, 
in  my  name/ with  a  prosecution  when  I  return:  not  that  I 
mean  seriously  to  go  to  law,  (which  I  detest,)  about  a  few 
tiers  of  wood;  but,  situated  as  the  estate  is,  it  is  too  much 
exposed  to  real  injury  from  such  marauders,  to  submit  qui 
etly  to  their  inroads. 

As  soon  as  I  get  better,  I  shall  set  out  for  Bizarre. 

Yours  truly, 
J.  R. 

How  do  you  come  on  with  Ovid  and  Hume? 

Who  is  the  greatest  man  that  you  have  met  with  in  Eng 
lish  history?  (I'll  answer  for  it,  he  proves  the  most  virtu 
ous:)  and  why  do  you  think  him  so  great? 

Who  is  the  worst  man? 

The  most  learned? 

I  shall  bring  home  some  good  maps  of  our  own  country. 

Since  Thursday,  the  23d  of  January,  (inclusive,)  we  have 
had  mild  warm  weather,  with  rain  and  frost.  What  might 
be  called  May  weather.  You  promised  to  keep  an  account 
of  the  weather  at  Bizarre,  but  your  little  scraps  of  letters  con 
tain  nothing  relating  to  it.  By  this  time,  the  ploughs  ought 
to  have  finished  the  low-ground  field  next  C.  Allen's, — when 
they  must  begin  on  the  opposite  low-ground  field,  next  B. 
Allen's,  on  this  side  of  the  R. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  13 

LETTER  III. 

Georgetown,  Saturday,  Feb,  15,  1800. 

Mr  DEAR  BOY, 

AFTER  I  had  gone  to  bed  last  night,  and  lay  tumbling 
and  tossing  about,  uneasy  and  unable  to  rest,  my  thoughts 
running  upon  many  an  anxious  subject,  among  which  you 
were  not  forgotten,  I  was  relieved  by  the  entrance  of  a  ser 
vant,  who  handed  me  your  letter  of  the  9th,  with  some  others. 
But  that  relief  was  only  temporary.  My  mind  fixed  itself 
on  your  situation  for  the  remainder  of  the  night,  and  I  have 
determined  to  settle  you  at  school  at  Winchester,  unless  (of 
which  I  have  no  expectation)  I  shall  find  Hampden  Sidney 
very  greatly  altered  for  the  better.  °At  your  time  of  life,  my 
son,  I  was  even  more  inelegtbly  placed  than  you  are,  and 
would  have  given  worlds  for  quiet  seclusion  and  books.  I 
never  had  either.  You  will  smile  when  I  tell  you  that  the 
first  map  that  I  almost  ever  saw  was  one  of  Virginia,  when 
I  was  nearly  fifteen;  and  that  I  never  (until  the  age  of  man 
hood)  possessed  any  treatise  on  geography,  other  than  an  ob 
solete  Gazetteer  of  Salmon,  and  my  sole  atlas  were  the  five 
maps,  if  you  will  honour  them  with  that  name,  contained  in 
the  Gazetteer,  each  not  quite  so  big  as  this  page,  of  the  three 
great  eastern  divisions,  and  two  western  ones,  of  the  earth. 
The  best  and  only  Latin  dictionary  that  I  ever  owned,  you 
now4iave.  I  had  a  small  Greek  lexicon,  bought  with  my  own 
pocket  money,  and  many  other  books,  acquired  in  the  same 
way,  (from  16  to  20  years  of  age;)  but  these  were  merely 
books  of  amusement.  I  never  was  with  any  preceptor,  one 
only  excepted,  (and  he  left  the  school  after  I  had  been  there 
about  two  months,)  who  would  deserve  to  be  called  a  Latin 
or  Greek  scholar;  and  I  never  had  any  master  of  modern  lan 
guages,  but  an  old  Frenchman,  (some  gentleman  valet,  I  sup 
pose,)  who  could  neither  write  nor  spell. 

I  mention  these  things,  my  child,  that  you  may  not  be  dis 
heartened.      'Tis  true,  that  I  am  a  very  ignorant  man,  for  one 


14  LETTERS  OF 

who  is  thought  to  have  received  a  learned  education.  You 
(I  hope)  will  acquire  more  information,  and  digest  it  better. 
There  is  an  old  proverb,  "  You  cannot  teach  an  old  dog  new 
tricks."  Yours  is  the  time  of  life  to  acquire  knowledge. 
Hereafter  you  must  use  it;  like  the  young,  sturdy  labourer, 
who  lays  up,  whilst  he  is  fresh  and  vigorous,  provision  for 
his  declining  age. 

When  I  asked  whether  you  had  received  the  bank  notes  I 
sent  you,  I  did  not  mean  to  inquire  how  you  had  laid  them 
out.     Don't  you  see  the  difference?     From  your  not  men 
tioning  that  they  had  come  to  hand,  (a  careless  omission;  you 
should  break  yourself  of  this  habit,)  and  your  cousin  inform 
ing  me  that  she  had  not  received  two  packets  sent  by  the  same 
mail,  I  concluded  that  the  notes  were  probably  lost  or  em 
bezzled.     Hence  my  inquiry  after  them.    No,  my  son;  what 
ever  cash  I  send  you  (unless  for  some  special  purpose)  is 
yours:  you  will  spend  it  as  you  please,  and  I  have  nothing  to 
say  to  it.     That  you  will  not  employ  it  in  a  manner  that  you 
ought  to  be  ashamed  of,  I  have  the  fullest  confidence.     To 
pry  into  such  affairs  would  not  only  betray  a  want  of  that 
confidence,  and  even  a  suspicion  discreditable  to  us  both,  but 
infringe  upon  your  rights  and  independence.     For,  although 
you  are  not  of  an  age  to  be  your  own  master,  and  independent 
in  all  your  actions,  yet  you  are  possessed  of  rights  which  it 
would  be  tyranny  and  injustice  to  withhold,  or  invade.     In 
deed,  this  independence,  which  is  so  much  vaunted,  and  which 
young  people  think  consists  in  doing  what  they  please,  when 
they  grow  up  to  man's  estate,  (with  as  much  justice  as  the 
poor  negro  thinks  liberty  consists  in  being  supported  in  idle 
ness,  by  other  people's  labour,) — this  independence  is  but  a 
name.     Place  us  where  you  will, — along  with  our  rights 
there  must  coexist  correlative  duties, — and  the  more  exalted 
the  station,  the  more  arduous  are  these  last.     Indeed,  as  the 
duty  is  precisely  correspondent  to  the  power,  it  follows  that 
the  richer,  the  wiser,  the  more  powerful  a  man  is,  the  greater 
is  the  obligation  upon  him  to  employ  his  gifts  in  lessening 
the  sum  of  human  misery;  and  this  employment  constitutes 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  15 

happiness,  which  the  weak  and  wicked  vainly  imagine  to  con 
sist  in  wealth,  finery,  or  sensual  gratification.  Who  so  mi 
serable  as  the  bad  Emperor  of  Rome?  Who  more  happy  than 
Trajan  and  Antoninus?  Look  at  the  fretful,  peevish,  rich 
man,  whose  senses  are  as  much  jaded  by  attempting  to  em 
brace  too  much  gratification,  as  the  limbs  of  the  poor  post 
horse  are  by  incessant  labour.  [See  the  Gentlemen  and 
Basket-makers,  and,  indeed,  the  whole  of  Sandford  and  Mer 
lon.] 

Do  not,  however,  undervalue,  on  that  account,  the  charac 
ter  of  the  real  gentleman,  which  is  the  most  respectable  __ 
amongst  men.  It  consists  not  of  plate,  and  equipage,  and  rich 
living,  any  more  than  in  the  disease  which  that  mode  of  life 
engenders;  but  in  truth,  courtesy,  bravery,  generosity,  and 
learning,  which  last,  although  not  essential  to  it,  yet  does 
very  much  to  adorn  and  illustrate  the  character  of  the  true 
gentleman.  Tommy  Merton's  gentlemen  were  no  gentle 
men,  except  in  the  acceptation  of  innkeepers,  (and  the  great 
vulgar,  as  well  as  the  small,)  with  whom  he  who  rides  in  a 
coach  and  six,  is  three  times  as  great  a  gentleman  as  he  who 
drives  a  post-chaise  and  pair.  Lay  down  this  as  a  prin 
ciple,  that  truth  is  to  the  other  virtues,  what  vital  air  is  to 
the  human  system.  They  cannot  exist  at  all  without  it;  and 
as  the  body  may  live  under  many  diseases,  if  supplied  with 
pure  air  for  its  consumption,  so  may  the  character  survive 
many  defects,  where  there  is  a  rigid  attachment  to  truth. 
All  equivocation  and  subterfuge  belong  to  falsehood,  which 
consists,  not  in  using  false  words  only,  but  in  conveying  false 
impressions,  no  matter  how;  and  if  a  person  deceive  himselfr 
and  I,  by  my  silence,  suffer  him  to  remain  in  that  error,  I  am 
implicated  in  the  deception,  unless  he  be  one  who  has  no  right 
to  rely  upon  me  for  information,  and,  in  that  case,  'tis  plain, 
I  could  not  be  instrumental  in  deceiving  him. 

I  send  you  two  letters,  addressed  to  myself,  whilst  at 
school — of  which  I  NOW  sorely  repent  me  I  did  not  THEN 
avail  myself,  (so  far,  at  least,  as  my  very  ineligible  situation 
would  admit.)  Will  you  accept  a  little  of  my  experience, 


16  LETTERS  OF 

instead  of  buying  some  of  your  own  at  a  very  dear  rate? — 
and  so,  God  bless  you,  my  son. 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

P.  S.  In  consideration  of  my  being  surrounded  with  com 
pany,  and  having,  at  the  same  time,  a  horrible  headach,  ex 
cuse  this  scratch. 

I  shall  send  you  Walker's  Dictionary,  for  pronouncing  the 
English  language.  Among  other  vulgarisms,  I  hope  it  will 
break  you  and  Buona  of  saying  horrubble,  sensubble,  indo- 
lunce,  for  horrible,  sensible,  indolence,  &c.  You  will  soon 
get  over  this,  by  accustoming  yourself  to  say  horri,  sensi,  (as 
if  spelled  horry,  &c.,)  dividing  the  word,  and  then  adding  the 
final  syllable  (ble.)  You  know  I've  long  been  contending 
against  this  barbarism,  which  deforms  the  pronunciation  of 
Virginia. 

"Mah,"  instead  of  my,  pronounced  sometimes  mie,  and, 
at  others,  me,  the  e  short,  as  bring  me  my  hat. 

Famully family. 

Possubul possible,  &c.  &c. 

Vigilunt vigilant,  &c.  &c. 

Another  omission: — 

You  say  nothing  of  Duchess,  or  the  other  mares  and 
the  foals.  Are  they  with  foal  ?  (or,  as  the  sportsmen  say, 
"in  foal?") 

When  you  write,  have  my  letter  before  you,  and  (after  tell 
ing  me  every  thing  that  suggests  itself  to  your  mind)  exa 
mine  and  reply  to  the  points  it  contains. 

Copy  the  enclosed  letters,  and  take  special  care  of  the  ori 
ginals.  I  am  glad  that  you  have  read  Lord  Chatham's  let 
ters,  and  yet  more,  that  you  are  pleased  with  them.  They 
will  bear,  and,  I  hope,  receive,  repeated  readings. 

Enclosed  are  ten  dollars,  United  States  Bank,  payable  at 
Washington,  No.  7045,  E. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  17 

LETTER  IV. 

Georgetown,  Saturday,  March  1, 1806. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  has  relieved  me  from  great  uneasiness— 
as  I  got  none  from  you  last  week,  and  was  afraid  that  you 
were  sick,  or  that  some  accident  had  befallen  you.  Why, 
my  dear  boy,  did  this  happen? — and  why  will  you,  through 
carelessness,  expose  those  who  love  you  to  suffer  on  your  ac 
count?  I  would  not  write  myself,  hoping  that  my  silence 
would  be  a  more  forcible  admonition  than  any  I  could  de 
vise. 

Your  letter  is  not  a  bad  one,  although  it  has  some  errors 
in  it;  it  might  have  been  more  correct,  yet  worse.  Do  not, 
however,  undervalue  correctness;  for,  although  mere  free 
dom  from  defect  does  not  constitute  excellence,  which  is  in 
itself  a  positive  quality,  yet  great  defects  deform  the  great 
est  excellence. 

We  do  not  say  " from  there"  but  " from  thence."  The 
present  participle  of  the  verb  "  to  put,"  is  spelled  with  a 
double  t,  "puling,"  and  not  "pu/ing."  The  word  plough 
(in  every  sense  of  it)  is  spelled  with  "  ugh"  and  not  a  "  w" 
as  you  have  it,  "plowing."  I  have  much  fault  to  find  with 
the  handwriting  of  your  letter:  it  is  hurried,  confused,  in 
short,  a  mere  scratch,  indistinct,  and  hardly  legible;  where 
I  am  obliged  to  guess  at  the  letters;  and,  from  the  mode  of 
writing  and  folding  up  in  a  hurry,  before  the  ink  had  dried, 
much  blotted.  Take  my  advice,  my  son,  and  do  not  at 
tempt  a  running  hand  yet.  The  way  to  acquire  a  good  run 
ning  hand,  is  to  begin  with  a  fair,  large,  clean-cut,  and 
distinct  character.  Children  always  learn  to  stand  alone, 
and  to  walk,  step  by  step,  before  they  run.  There  is  ano 
ther  excellent  rule,  which,  if  you  now  adhere  to  it,  will  be 
of  great  service  to  you  through  life:  "  make  haste  slowly." 
Hurry  always  occasions  blunder  and  delay.  When,  there 
fore,  you  make  any  mistake,  or  blot,  write  all  over  again, 

3 


18  LETTERS  OF 

fairly.  The  labour  of  doing  this  will  make  you  careful  and 
correct;  and,  when  the  habit  is  formed,  the  trouble  is  over. 
Habit  is  truly  called  "  second  nature."  To  form  good  ha 
bits  is  almost  as  easy  as  to  fall  into  bad.  What  is  the  diffe 
rence  between  an  industrious,  sober  man  and  an  idle  drunk 
en  one,  but  their  respective  habits?  'Tis  just  as  easy  for 
Mr.  Harrison  to  be  temperate  and  active,  as  'tis  for  poor 
Knowles  to  be  the  reverse;  with  this  great  difference,  that, 
exclusively  of  the  effects  of  their  respective  courses  of  life  on* 
their  respectability  and  fortunes,  the  exercises  of  the  one  are 
followed  by  health,  pleasure,  and  peace  of  mind,  whilst 
those  of  the  other  engender  disease,  pain,  and  discontent — 
to  say  nothing  of  poverty  in  its  most  hideous  shape,  want,, 
squalid  misery,  and  the  contempt  of  the  world,  contrasted 
with  affluent  plenty,  a  smiling  family,  and  the  esteem  of  all 
good  men.  Perhaps  you  cannot  believe  that  there  exists  a 
being  who  would  hesitate  which  of  these  two  lots  to  choose. 
Alas!  my  son,  vice  puts  on  such  alluring  shapes,  indolence 
is  so  seducing,  that,  (like  the  flies  in  ./Esop,)  we  revel  whilst 
the  sun  shines,  and  for  a  few  hours'  temporary  pleasure  pay 
the  price  of  perishing  miserably  in  the  winter  of  our  old 
age.  The  industrious  ants  are  wiser.  By  a  little  forbear 
ance  at  the  moment,  by  setting  a  just  value  on  the  future? 
and  disregarding  present  temptation,  they  secure  an  honour- 
able  and  comfortable  asylum.  All  nature,  my  son,  is  a  vo 
lume,  speaking  comfort  and  offering  instruction  to  the  good 
and  wise.  But  «  the  fool  saith  in  his  heart,  There  is  no  God:" 
he  shuts  his  eyes  to  the  great  book  of  Nature  that  lies  open 
before  him.  Your  fate,  my  dear  Theodorick,  is  in  your 
awn  hands.  Like  Hercules,  every  young  man  has  his  choice 
between  pleasure,  falsely  so  called,  and  infamy,  or  labori 
ous  virtue  and  a  fair  fame.  In  old  age,  indeed  long  before, 
we  begin  to  feel  the  folly,  or  wisdom,  of  our  selection.  I 
confidently  trust  that  you,  my  son,  will  choose  wisely.  In 
seven  years  from  this  time,  you  will  repent,  or  rejoice,  at 
the  disposition  which  you  make  of  the  present  hour, 
affectionate  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


p.  S.  —  We  don't  say  "  I  only  go  there  of  post-days,"  but 
on  post-days.  -  /  ,   •' 


LETTER  V. 

Friday,  March  21, 1806. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  (the  first  that  I  have  received  for  three 
posts)  has  relieved  me  from  very  great  concern  and  uneasi 
ness  on  your  account.  Your  reason  for  failing  to  write,  was 
altogether  insufficient.  Compare,  I  beseech  you,  my  son, 
the  trouble  which  it  would  give  you  to  send  me  a  few  short 
lines,  with  my  suspense  and  anxiety  lest  you  should  be  ill, 
or  some  disastrous  accident  have  befallen  you,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  confess,  that  the  loss,  or  miscarriage,  of  one  of  your 
letters,  or  the  trouble  of  composing  it,  is  nothing  in  compa 
rison.  Semi  your  next  by  the  New  Orleans  mail,  or  write 
by  the  Genito  post,  and  I  shall  receive  an  early  answer  to 
this.  Attend,  I  beg  of  you,  my  son,  to  your  books.  In  a 
short  time,  I  hope  to  see  you;  but  let  not  this  expectation 
stop  your  pen. 

Believe  me,  most  truly, 

your  affectionate 

kinsman  and  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

P.  S. — I  am  sorry  for  the  loss  of  Miniken's  foal.  How 
are  the  others? — and  every  thing,  and  every  body?  How 
and  where  is  Dr.  Robinson?  and  Mr.  Dillon?  and  Mr.  John 
ston. 


LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  VI. 

House  of  Representatives,  April  5,  1806. 


THEODORE, 

LAST  night  I  was  again  denied  the  pleasure  of  hear- 
g  from  you.     I  was  not,  indeed,  without  hopes  that  the 
ew  Orleans  mail,  which  came  in  this   morning,  would 
bring  me  a  letter  from  you,  but  in  this  expectation  I  have 
been  disappointed.     By  this  time  I  hope  your  cousins  and 
sisters  are  at  home,  and  your  solitary,  uncomfortable  situa 
tion  much  changed  for  the  better. 

God  bless  you,  my  son.     I  hope  soon  to  see  you  once 

more. 

Your  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  VII. 

Bizarre,  July  20,  1806. 
Mr  DEAR  BOYS, 

BY  this  time,  I  trust,  you  have  become  familiarized,  in 
some  degree,  to  your  new  situation,  and  to  its  restraints; 
which,  I  hope,  you  will  bear  without  murmuring,  in  the  re 
flection  that  your  present  self-denial  will  essentially  contri 
bute  to  your  future  and  permanent  benefit.  I  have  often  re 
gretted,  since  I  parted  from  you,  that  it  was  not  my  good 
fortune,  at  your  time  of  life,  to  be  placed  in  a  situation 
equally  eligible  with  what  I  conceive  yours  to  be.  You 
have  both,  unless  I  am  much  deceived  in  you,  a  laudable 
ambition  to  become  learned  and  respectable  men.  Whether 
such  is  to  be  your  future  character,  respected  and  esteemed 
by  all  good  men,  or  whether  you  shall  become  mere  vulgar 
beings,  whose  only  business  is  "fruges  consumer^"  will 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  21 

altogether  depend  upon  your  present  exertions.  You,  my 
dear  Theodore,  are  too  much  straitened  for  time,  to  lose  a 
moment  that  can  be  profitably  employed;  and  you,  my  dear 
Buona,  although  younger  by  five  years,  must  not  conceive 
that  you  have  any  to  lose.  Recollect  that,  two  years  ago, 
you  could  master  Caesar,  and  that  if  you  had  continued  to 
progress,  instead  of  falling  back,  which,  from  ill  health  and 
the  want  of  an  instructer,  you  were  compelled  to  do,  you 
might  now  be  a  finished  Latin  scholar,  and  somewhat  of  a 
Grecian  into  the  bargain.  The  man  who  thinks  himself  so 
rich  that  he  can  afford  to  neglect  his  affairs  and  throw  away 
his  money,  is  not  far  from  want,  however  great  his  estate 
may  be.  But  time  is,  at  once,  the  most  valuable  and  most 
perishable -of  all  our  possessions;  when  lost  it  never  can  be 
retrieved. 

I  hope  to  hear  from  you  both,  very  soon,  and  to  learn 
what  you  are  doing,  and  how  you  like  your  situation.  Your 
mother,  my  dear  Tudor,  is  not  very  well,  but  Sally  is  quite 
so.  Tom  and  Archibald  Harrison  have  been  with  us,  ever 
since  Friday  evening.  Beverley  has  not  returned  from  Mr. 
Randolph's.  Dr.  Robinson  has,  at  last,  brought  his  lady 
home.  We  dined  with  them  to-day. 

Present  me,  very  respectfully,  to  Dr.  Haller.  I  write  by 
candle-light,  and  the  moths  are  swarming  around  my  pen, 
and  on  the  paper,  so  that  you  will  have  some  difficulty,  I 
fear,  to  make  out  my  writing. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  boys!  I  am  your  affectionate 
uncle  and  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

P.  S. — I  was  sorry  to  find,  on  coming  home,  that  D'An- 
ville  had  been  left  behind.  Theodore  should  apprize  Dr. 
Haller  of  his  never  having  had  the  small-pox,  and  embrace 
the  first  opportunity  of  being  vaccinated. 


22  LETTERS  OF 

LETTER  VIII. 

'  v        *• 
Bizarre,  Thursday  night,  July  24,  1806. 

MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  AM  very  glad  to  find  that  you  and  Buona*  are 
pleased  with  your  situation,  and  that  you  have  begun  to 
learn  French.  At  the  same  time,  my  son,  if  it  is  not  in 
compatible  with  Dr.  Haller's  plan  of  instruction,  I  wish  you 
both  to  resume  your  Latin.  Present  my  respects  to  the 
Doctor,  and  communicate  this  circumstance  to  him. 

The  following  errors  in  your  letter,  a  little  care  and  re 
flection  would,  1  am  persuaded,  have  led  you  to  avoid. 
"  Have  began"  is  not  grammatical:  began  is  the  imperfect 
tense  of  the  verb  begin;  have  begun  is  the  perfect.  "  None 
of  us  ever  go  in  the  street:"  it  should  be  into  the  street. 
The  preposition  "  by"  instead  of  the  verb  buy,  to  pur 
chase.  "  Meltons,"  for  melons.  "  I  am  dictated  by  the 
corrections,  &e.,"  is  not  good  English:  it  should  be,  lam 
directed  by,  &c.  There  can  be  no  excuse  for  false  ortho 
graphy:  and  what  but  inattention  could  have  caused  the  er 
rors  I  have  noted,  or  occasioned  Buona  to  spell  watch,  thus — 
"wacth?"  God  bless  you  both,  my  children. 
Your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  IX. 

Bizarre,  Sept.  11, 1806. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  THANK  you  for  your  letter,  which  I  received  by  the 
post  before  last.     Present  my  respects  to  Dr.  Haller,  and 

*  The  appellation  by  which  he  called  his  younger  nephew.  —D. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  23 

tell  him  that  I  will  be  obliged  to  him  to  procure  you  shirts, 
handkerchiefs,  and  such  other  things  as  you  may  stand  in 
need  of. 

We  do  not  say  "  scarcely  nothing"  but  any  thing. 
Give  my  love  to  Buona,  and  tell  him  that  I  shall  forward 
his  letter  to  his  brother  immediately ;  but,  tell  him,  also,  that 
"a  tolerable  long  letter"  is  intolerable  English.  He 
should  have  used  the  adverb  (tolerably)  instead  of  the  ad 
jective.  I  wish  that,  instead  of  a  fictitious  correspondent, 
you  would  address  your  letters,  I  mean  those  which  Dr.  H, 
requires  you  to  write,  weekly,  to  some  one  of  your  friends, 
or  acquaintance.  It  would  take  off  from  them  the  air  of 
stiffness  which  now  characterizes  them.  If  Buona  had  been 
describing  Richmond  to  his  mother,  or  myself,  he  would 
never  have  introduced  it  with,  "  I  beg  leave  to  wait  upon 
you;"  an  awkward  exordium,  which  even  Mr.  Expectation, 
of  Norfolk,  would  not  approve.  You  see,  my  sons,  that  I 
make  very  free  with  your  performances,  but  do  not  let  this 
discourage  you.  Write  your  letters,  just  as  you  think  them, 
and  they  will  be  easy;  and  any  inaccuracy,  which  creeps  inr 
may  be  afterwards  corrected. 

The  partridges  are  so  forward,  that  we  have  begun  ta- 
shoot  nearly  a  month  earlier  than  usual.  Carlo  is  an  excel 
lent  dog  for  bringing  birds^  after  they  are  shot,  but  not  so- 
good  for  finding  game.  I  wish  you  were  with  me,  my  sons,-, 
to-  enjoy  the  sport.  Your  skill,  my  clear  Theodore,  would 
make  amends  for  my  clumsiness,  and  dear  Buona  would  hold 
Miniken,  who  now  runs  away  from  uncle  whenever  she  has- 
an  opportunity.  But,  thank  God,  my  children,  you  are 
more  profitably  engaged.  This,  alone,  reconciles  me  to  the 
loss  of  your  society.  I  hope  to  sec  you  both,  about  the  last 
of  this  month. 

Mother  has  had  an  ague,  and  Sally  very  sore  fingers. 
Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

P.  S. — Do  not  make  a  flourish  under  my  name,  on  the  su 
perscription  of  your  letters.     It  is  not  customary  to  do  so. 


24  LETTERS  OF 

I  got  a  letter  to-night  from  Mr.  Bryan:  he  and  my  little 
god-son  are  well,  but  Mrs.  B.  has  the  fever. 

My  dear  Buona,  this  is  your  birth-day;  you  are  now  en 
tering  on  your  twelfth  year:  may  you  see  many  happy  re 
turns  of  this  anniversary.  The  success  of  my  wish  will  ma 
terially  depend,  my  child,  on  the  use  which  you  make  of 
the  present  time. 


LETTER  X. 

Georgetown,  Dec.  18,  1806. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  AM  extremely  glad  that  you  and  Buona  are  once 
more  in  a  situation  to  prosecute  your  studies,  which,  I  sup 
pose,  engross  your  whole  time,  since  I  do  not  hear  from  you 
as  often  as  when  I  was  at  Bizarre,  although  you  now  have  a 
daily  conveyance  for  your  letters.  My  dear  Tudor  has  not 
written  once  to  his  uncle;  nor  have  I  received  any  letter 
from  him,  for  his  brother — to  whom  I  wrote,  by  the  Leoni- 
das,  soon  after  my  arrival  here.  You  would  gratify  me  very 
much,  my  sons,  by  letting  me  hear  from  you  two  or  three 
times  a  week,  even  if  it  were  but  a  single  line.  My  dear 
boys,  I  have  no  objection  to  your  engaging  in  any  manly  and 
athletic  exercise  whatever;  on  the  contrary,  would  encourage 
you  to  such  innocent  and  invigorating  sports.  I  have  some 
books  of  amusement,  as  well  as  instruction,  which  I  shall  send 
you  in  a  few  days.  God  bless  you  both. 

Your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  25 

LETTER  XI. 

- 

Georgetown,  Jan.  8, 1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  4th,  and  wait, 
with  great  anxiety,  for  one  from  Dr.  Haller,  on  the  same  sub 
ject. 

Let  me  recommend  to  you  another  perusal  of  Lord  Chat 
ham's  letters  to  his  nephew.  Attend  to  his  precepts  respect 
ing  deportment  to  inferiors,  equals,  and  superiors.  Let  these 
words,  also,  be  engraven  on  your  mind — "Whatever  you 
take  from  pleasure,  amusement,  or  indolence,  for  these  first 
few  years  of  your  life,  will  repay  you  a°  hundred  fold  in  the 
pleasures,  honours,  and  advantages,  of  all  your  remaining 
days."  The  candour  with  which  you  confess  your  indiscre 
tion  towards  Dr.  H.,  and  your  determination  to  avoid  giving 
him  future  cause  of  displeasure,  prevent  my  saying  any  thing 
on  that  subject,  except  to  caution  you  against  any  indulgence 
of  sudden  suggestions  of  your  feelings.  Some  impulse  of 
this  kind,  I  must  persuade  myself,  and  not  boyish  conceit, 
would  have  impelled  you  to  lay  down  a  regular  exercise  of 
your  school.  Remember  that  labour  is  necessary  to  excel 
lence.  This  is  an  eternal  truth,  although  vanity  cannot  be 
brought  to  believe,  or  indolence  to  heed  it.  I  am  deeply  in 
terested  in  seeing  you  turn  out  a  respectable  man,  in  every 
point  of  view;  and,  as  far  as  I  could,  have  endeavoured  to 
furnish  you  with  the  means  of  acquiring  knowledge  and  cor 
rect  principles,  and  manners,  at  the  same  time.  Self-conceit 
and  indifference  are  unfriendly,  in  an  equal  degree,  to  the  at 
tainment  of  knowledge,  or  the  forming  of  an  amiable  charac 
ter.  The  first  is  more  offensive,  but  does  not  more  com 
pletely  mar  all  excellence  than  the  last;  and  it  is  truly  de 
plorable  that  both  flourish  in  Virginia,  as  if  it  were  their  na 
tive  soil.  A  petulant  arrogance,  or  supine,  listless  indiffer 
ence,  marks  the  character  of  too  many  of  our  young  men. 
They  early  assume  airs  of  manhood;  and  these  premature  men 

4 


26  LETTERS  OF 

remain  children  for  the  rest  of  their  lives.  Upon  the  credit 
of  a  smattering  of  Latin,  drinking  grog,  and  chewing  tobacco, 
these  striplings  set  up  for  legislators  and  statesmen;  and  seem 
to  deem  it  derogatory  from  their  manhood  to  treat  age  and 
experience  with  any  degree  of  deference.  They  are  loud, 
boisterous,  overbearing,  and  dictatorial:  profane  in  speech, 
low  and  obscene  in  their  pleasures.  In  the  tavern,  the  sta 
ble,  or  the  gaming-house,  they  are  at  home;  but,  placed  in 
the  society  of  real  gentlemen,  and  men  of  letters,  they  are 
awkward  and  uneasy:  in  all  situations,  they  are  contemptible. 

The  vanity  of  excelling  in  pursuits,  where  excellence  does 
not  imply  merit,  has  been  the  ruin  of  many  a  young  man.  I 
should,  therefore,  be  under  apprehensions  for  a  young  fellow, 
who  danced  uncommonly  well,  and  expect  more  hereafter 
from  his  heels  than  from  his  head.  Alexander,  I  think,  was 
reproached  with  singing  well,  and  very  justly.  He  must 
have  misapplied  the  time  which  he  devoted  to  the  acquisi 
tion  of  so  great  a  proficiency  in  that  art.  I  once  knew  a 
young  fellow  who  was  remarkably  handsome;  he  was  highly 
skilled  in  dancing  and  fencing — an  exceedingly  good  skater, 
and  one  of  the  most  dexterous  billiard  players  and  marks 
men  that  I  ever  saw: — he  sang  a  good  song,  and  was  the  envy 
of  every  foolish  fellow,  and  the  darling  of  every  silly  girl, 
who  knew  him.  He  was,  nevertheless,  one  of  the  most  ig 
norant  and  conceited  puppies  whom  I  ever  beheld.  Yet,  it 
is  highly  probable,  that  if  he  had  not  been  enamoured  of  the 
rare  qualities  which  I  have  enumerated,  he  might  have  made 
a  valuable  and  estimable  man.  But  he  was  too  entirely  gra 
tified  with  his  superficial  and  worthless  accomplishments  to 
bestow  a  proper  cultivation  on  his  mind. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore.  I  am  almost  blind.  May 
you,  my  son,  prove  all  that  can  be  desired  by  your  sincere 
friend,  and  affectionate  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

P.  S. — Have  you  read  all  Miss  Edgeworth's  tales?  Do 
you  remember  the  story  of  Lame  Jervas?  It  is  hardly  ro- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  27 

wiance.  I  mean  in  this  respect,  that  temperance,  fidelity, 
and  industry,  have  raised  many  a  man,  from  as  low  begin 
nings,  to  respectability  and  affluence.  The  Lottery,  too,  is  an 
admirable  story,  and,  perhaps,  a  true  one,  except  as  to  the 
happy  conclusion.  The  little  sketch  which  I  have  sentBuo- 
na,  will  serve  to  give  you  a  rude  idea  of  the  waters  of  the 
Missouri.  I  hope  you  have  not  forgotten  your  geography. 
Do  not  neglect  that  amusing  and  useful  study.  Write  to  me 
often,  and  continue  to  send  copies  of  your  translations  and 
exercises  in  French,  as  well  as  Latin. 


LETTER  XII. 

Bizarre,  Sunday,  April  5, 1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  RECEIVED  your  letter  the  day  before  yesterday,  and 
am  not  at  all  surprised  at  its  contents,  although,  at  the  same 
time,  not  the  less  obliged  to  you  for  your  intelligence.  I 
saw  enough,  when  I  was  last  in  Richmond,  to  make  me  doubt 
whether  you  or  Tudor  could  reap  any  solid  benefit  at  Dr. 
Haller's  school;  and,  I  assure  you,  it  has  caused  me  many  a 
moment  of  anxious  reflection  since.  Indeed,  I  had  begun  to 
entertain  fears  of  this  sort  some  time  before,  which  my  exa 
mination  of  you  both  only  served  to  confirm.  In  the  course 
of  next  week,  I  shall  send  down  for  you  both,  and,  even  if 
the  school  be  kept  up,  I  must  be  greatly  at  a  loss  how  to  dis 
pose  of  you,  should  you  return.  Pray  inquire  into  the  name 
and  character  of  the  young  Irish  gentleman  of  whom  you 
speak,  and  inform  him,  from  me,  that,  in  case  he  answer  my 
expectations,  I  wish  to  employ  him.  My  terms  will  be  more 
eligible  than  any  which  can  be  offered  to  him  at  a  public  se 
minary,  and  I  will  not  stand  upon  price.  He  will  have  less 
to  do,  and  be  better  accommodated  in  every  respect,  I  trust. 
My  dear  boys,  my  anxiety  about  you  is  extreme.  Every 


28  LETTERS  OF 

hour  that  you  lose  in  the  seed-time  of  learning,  fills  me  with 
uneasiness  and  concern;  I  know,  so  welly  that  years  of  study 
hereafter  cannot  make  up  for  a  day  misspent,  at  your  time  of 
life. 

God  bless  you,  my  sons, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
THEODORICK  B.  DUDLEY. 

Present  my  best  respects  to  Major  Scott,  and  tell  him  that 
I  hope  to  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  him  soon,  as  I  shall  be 
in  Richmond  about  the  20th  of  next  month.  Don't  forget 
this. 


LETTER  XIII. 

Bizarre,  July  12,  1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  written  to  Dr.  Haller,  requesting  that  a  part 
of  the  time  which  you  now  employ  in  French  exercises,  may 
be  devoted  to  the  Greek  grammar,  in  which  it  is  my  wish 
that  you  should  say  one  lesson,  at  the  least,  daily,  until  you 
be  perfect  in  it.  The  time  of  your  continuance  at  school  be 
gins  now  to  grow  short,  and  some  knowledge  of  the  Greek 
is  almost  indispensable  to  the  profession  for  which  you  are 
designed — the  etymology  of  every  term  in  medicine  and  che 
mistry  being  traced  to  that  language. 

I  can't  account  for  not  having  heard  either  from  yourself 
or  Buona,  since  I  left  Richmond.  I  hope  it  has  not  been 
owing  to  your  carelessness,  but  to  some  other  cause.  Your  sis 
ter  is  well;  but  your  cousin  Judy  complains  a  good  deal  of 
pain  in  her  side.  My  own  health  has  been  very  various 
since  I  saw  you.  Write  and  let  me  know  how  and  what  you 
do.  God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy. 

I  am  your  affectionate  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  29 

Call  on  my  good  friend  Major  Scott,  and  present  my  best 
regards  to  him,  with  inquiries  after  his  health.  If  you  should 
see  Dr.  Brockenbrough,  present  him  with  my  best  respects. 
You  are  now  of  an  age  to  know  how  the  world  begins  to 
move,  and  I  hope  you  will  entertain  me  with  such  occur 
rences  as  fall  within  your  observation.  Do  you  know  whe 
ther  Mr.  Tucker  returned  to  Williamsburg  after  the  Court  of 
Appeals  rose,  or  if  he  has  gone  to  Staunton  ? 


LETTER  XIV. 

Farmville,  August  3, 1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  few  short  lines  were  received  by  the  last  post, 
but  I  have  seen  nothing  of  the  letter  which  you  mention 
having  kept  in  your  desk,  in  expectation  of  a  conveyance  by 
Mr.  Randolph.  Do  you  say  your  lessons  to  Mr.  O'Reilly 
now?  I  hope  you  do;  and  that  you  will  make  every  exer 
tion  to  attain  a  proficiency  in  Greek,  even  at  the  expense  of 
a  temporary  neglect  of  your  French  and  Latin.  Indeed,  the 
Greek  itself  would  keep  alive  your  knowledge  of  the  last. 
You  say  nothing  of  the  Major  or  of  Dr.  Brockenbrough. 
Make  my  respects  to  both  of  them,  and  ask  the  Major  to 
write  to  me. 

My  love  to  Tudor:  I  have  not  leisure  to  write  to  him  by 
this  post.  I  shall  not  disapprove  his  visit  to  Mr.  Heth's,  if 
he  do  not  make  it  too  long.  The  letter  to  which  he  refers, 
has  never  reached  me.  Hereafter,  I  hope,  you  will  put  your 
letters  into  the  post-office  with  your  own  hands.  Let  me 
know  if  you  want  any  thing — clothes,  &c.  Your  sister  has 
had  the  St.  Anthony's  fire,  but  is  quite  well  at  present.  Your 
cousin  Judy  has  been  complaining  for  some  days,  and  looks 
badly. 

Your  affectionate  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


30  LETTERS  OF 

I  am  sorry  that  Tudor  has  left  off  saying  his  lessons  to  Mr. 
O'Reilly.  I  like  his  method  of  teaching.  Show  him  [Tu 
dor]  this  letter. 

Capt.  Murray's  family  are  on  a  visit  to  Dr.  Robinson.  Ho- 
dijah  is  coming  to  live  with  Mr.  Johnston,  to  study  law  with 
him.  He  is  expected  up  every  day. 


LETTER  XV. 

Farmville,  Aug.  7, 1807. 
My  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  2d.  En 
closed  you  have  ten  dollars,  out  of  which  you  will  reim 
burse  Dr.  Haller  the  price  of  the  hat  which  he  was  so  good 
as  to  procure  for  you  when  yours  was  stolen.  If  you  are  in 
want  of  shoes,  get  a  pair,  and  divide  what  may  remain  of  the 
money  with  Tudor.  In  your  next,  let  me  know  the  num 
ber  of  lessons,  &c.,  which  you  daily  perform,  and  the  mas 
ters  to  whom  you  recite;  or,  rather,  a  description  of  your 
studies  for  a  week,  under  the  several  heads  of  Greek,  La 
tin,  French,  mathematics,  &c.  I  am  sorry,  my  dear  boy, 
that  you  should  write  merely  from  a  sense  of  duty;  but  I 
hope  you  will  not  always  be  as  destitute  of  matter  worth 
communicating  as  you  now  represent  yourself  to  be,  and  as 
I  feel  to  be  my  own  case.  I  am  quite  alone,  and  obliged  to 
do  great  violence  to  my  inclination  in  continuing  to  endure 
the  privation  of  your  and  Tudor's  society;  but  the  conside 
ration  of  your  advantage  prevails  over  my  own  gratification. 
Farewell,  my  dear  boys:  may  you  answer  and  ever  exceed 
the  expectations  of  your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


Have  you  heard  lately  from  your  father  or  mother?   Sally 
is  well:  Hodijah  has  not  yet  come  up. 


LETTER  XVI. 

Farmville,  Friday,  Aug.  21,  1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  15th,  which 
gives  me  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  as  far  as  it  relates  to  your 
self;  but  I  was  sorry  to  hear  nothing  of  Tudor,  who  last 
week  wrote  to  his  mother  that  he  was  in  bad  health,  and  his 
silence  this  week  will  make  her  very  uneasy.  Why  do  you 
take  no  notice  of  each  other  in  your  letters,  as  if  you  were 
utter  strangers.  I  calculated  that  four  or  five  dollars  (I  gave 
four  for  Buona)  would  get  your  hat,  two  the  shoes,  and 
then  there  would  have  been  nine  or  twelve  shillings  a-piece 
for  you. 

Give  my  compliments  to  Major  Scott,  and  ask  him  to  pay 
you  ten  dollars,  and  charge  them  to  me.  Give  Tudor  two 
of  them  in  my  name.  If  the  other  eight  do  not  answer 
your  purpose,  the  major  will  give  you  what  is  requisite. 
Do  you  take  plenty  of  exercise?  and  how  is  your  health 
and  Tudor's?  Is  the  mathematical  lesson  you  say,  in  Eu 
clid? — What  book?  I  wish  you  not  to  discontinue  French 
entirely,  by  any  means.  Omitting  some  of  your  Latin  les 
sons,  (say  three  a  week,)  would  enable  you  to  devote  two  or 
three  days  to  French. 

Call  immediately  on  Major  Scott,  and  tell  him  that  I  un 
derstand  Davis  means  to  send  the  wagons  down  soon,  and  I 
request  he  will  order  them  to  call  at  Webster's  cabinet-shop 
for  a  press  and  bedstead  for  me.  You  have  not  yet  men 
tioned  how  my  old  friend  is,  or  Dr.  B.  Your  intelligence 


32  LETTERS  OF 

is  acceptable,  although  not  new.     Write  Alston,  not  <ft.l- 
stin. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  Theodore. 

Yours  affectionately, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

Mr.  Creed  Taylor,  who  saw  you  both  on  Saturday,  tells 
me  Tudor  and  yourself  were  well. 


LETTER  XVII. 

Bizarre,  Aug.  23,  1807. 
Mvr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

WHEN  I  wrote  to  you  yesterday,  I  did  not  advert  to 
the  circumstance  of  your  being  engaged  in  reading  "  Ele- 
mens  de  Chymie,"  which  will  serve  to  prevent  your  forget 
ting  your  French  altogether.  Nevertheless,  I  could  wish 
you  to  accustom  yourself  to  translate  into  that  language, 
or  (what  is  better)  to  compose  in  it;  since,  in  a  short  time, 
you  would  acquire  the  habit  of  thinking  in  it,  also,  instead 
of  thinking  in  English  and  translating  your  thoughts.  Do 
not  suppose,  from  this,  that  I  prefer  the  French,  as  a  lan 
guage,  to  our  own.  Far  from  it.  In  my  estimation  it 
stands  at  an  immeasurable  distance,  in  the  scale  of  excel 
lence,  below  our  native  tongue.  But  the  progress  of  the 
arts  in  France,  and  still  more,  the  progress  of  her  arms, 
render  an  acquaintance  with  the  language  of  that  formida 
ble  people  almost  indispensable.  Widely  diffused  as  it  now 
is,  every  day  enlarges  its  range.  It  will  be  to  Europe  what 
the  Latin  was  in  the  age  of  Trajan ;  and  the  time,  perhaps,  is 
not  far  distant,  when  the  language  and  literature  of  England 
will  be  unknown  out  of  North  America,  and  we  shall  not 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  33 

preserve  them  without  a  struggle.  They  have  not  taken 
root  deep  enough  in  India  to  withstand  the  storm:  perhaps 
their  insignificancy  may  preserve  the  settlements  in  New 
Holland,  and  thus  perpetuate  the  mother  tongue  in  both  he 
mispheres.  Under  these  circumstances,  nothing  short  of  in 
fatuation  could  induce  the  English  cabinet  to  force  us  into  a 
war  with  them.  But  I  am  running  into  politics. 

Is  it  true  that  Dr.  Haller  intends  to  break  up  his  school, 
and  for  the  reason  which  I  have  heard  assigned? — "  Mr.  Pel- 
zer's  striking  one  of  his  scholars?"  Is  Mr.  Pelzer  still  with 
Dr.  H.  a,nd  Mr.  Garnet?  Has  the  philosophical  apparatus  ar 
rived?  Does  any  one  lecture  on  natural  philosophy  or  che 
mistry?  Are  there  any  other  Greek  scholars  but  yourself? 
if  so,  what  books  do  they  read?  Have  you  practised  much 
in  arithmetic? — without  a  ready  knowledge  of  it,  the  study 
of  the  mathematics  will  be  vain.  1  hope,  in  your  next,  a 
reply  to  these  queries,  for  I  have  observed  that  your  letters 
are  very  seldom  answers  to  mine. 

Sally  was  much  pleased  with  your  intelligence  concern 
ing  her  parents  and  brethren.  She  is  well,  and  desires  to 
be  remembered  affectionately  to  you:  so  does  your  cousin 
Judy.  I'm  afraid  that  we  shall  have  very  few  partridges, 
owing  to  the  wetness  of  the  season.  Yesterday  was  the 
first  day  that  has  passed  without  rain  since  the  10th.  The 
crops  are  ruined,  corn  excepted,  and  that  much  injured  by 
wet.  Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore. 

I  am,  in  truth,  your  affectionate  kinsman 

and  friend, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


34  LETTERS  OF 

LETTER  XVIII. 

Bizarre,  August  30,  1807. 
My  DEAR  THEODORE, 

DR.  HALLER  writes  me  that  you  have  become  ex 
ceedingly  diligent  of  late,  and  that  the  good  effect  of  your  in 
dustry  is  manifested  by  your  advancement  in  your  studies. 
I  can  scarcely  make  you  sensible  of  the  pleasure  which  this 
intelligence  has  given  me.  I  laid  awake  the  greater  part  of 
the  night,  after  I  received  the  letter,  thinking  of  you,  and 
pleasing  myself  with  imagining  your  future  progress  in  life. 
Whether  you  prove  a  useful  or  creditable  member  of  society 
or  not,  depends  altogether  upon  yourself;  and  I  am  truly  re 
joiced  to  hear  that  you  possess  the  inclination,  in  as  great  a 
degree  as  you  do  the  power:  not  that  I  have  hitherto  doubted 
your  disposition  to  learn;  but  there  is  a  wide  difference  be 
tween  a  boy's  getting  his  lesson  from  a  sense  of  duty,  or  a 
fear  of  punishment,  and  his  applying  himself,  with  zeal,  from 
a  conviction  that  he  is  consulting  his  future  advantage,  and 
from  an  honourable  ambition  to  distinguish  himself.  To  ex 
cel)  there  must  be  something  of  this  ardour.  Without  it,  no 
thing  better  than  a  tame  mediocrity  can  be  expected.  The 
taste  for  reading,  which  you  are  now  forming,  will  be  a  source 
of  pleasure  to  you  through  life.  If  the  indolent  and  the  de 
bauched  could  conceive  the  enjoyment  of  a  literary  mind, 
their  boasted  pleasures  would  become  loathsome  to  them. 

You  say  that  your  mathematical  lessons  are  "  in  the  first 
book:" — of  what?  Euclid,  I  suppose;  but  why  this  obscurity, 
or,  rather,  this  omission?  Do  you  read  the  evangelists  in 
Greek  with  tolerable  facility  ?  How  do  you  like  that  lan 
guage?  Do  you  continue  to  translate  English  into  French 
and  Latin?  If  you  see  Quasha  when  he  comes  down  again, 
send  me  Edgeworth's  Tales  by  him.  By  the  way,  call  at 
Major  Scott's  every  evening  after  this  comes  to  hand,  and 
you  will  know  when  the  wagon  comes  down.  I  expect  it 
will  be  in  town  about  Wednesday  or  Thursday.  Inquire  at 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  35 

Gordon's,  Ellis',  and  Allen's,  and  the  different  stores,  for 
shot  No.  8;  get  me  a  bag,  and  send  it  up  by  Quasha;  the  Ma 
jor  will  pay  for  it,  or,  what  is  the  same  thing,  furnish  you 
with  money  to  do  it.  Order  Quasha  to  call  at  Webster's  ca 
binet  shop  for  a  mahogany  press,  and  a  bedstead  of  mine,  and, 
if  there  are  any  oyster  shells  in  Richmond,  get  a  hogshead  for 
me,  and  send  them  up  by  the  wagon.  The  Major  is  busy, 
and  I  do  not  like  to  trouble  him.  Show  him  this  letter,  and 
he  will  advance  the  money  for  the  shot  and  shells. 
Adieu,  my  son, 

Your  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

My  dear  Buona  has  not  written  to  his  uncle  for  a  great 
length  of  time.  The  examination  being  over,  he  now  has 
leisure,  no  doubt.  My  love  to  him. 


LETTER  XIX. 

Bizarre,  Oct.  6,  1807 
MY  DEAR  BOYS, 

THE  time  has,  at  length,  arrived,  when  I  may  once 
more  indulge  myself  with  the  pleasure  of  your  company.  It 
is  an  unspeakable  satisfaction  to  me,  you  may  be  assured,  and, 
I  trust,  not  less  so  to  yourselves.  Enclosed  are  twenty  dollars, 
(five  a  piece,  besides  ten  for  your  journey,)  which  may  dis 
charge  any  little  debts  that  you  may  have  contracted,  al 
though  I  hope  you  have  not  exposed  yourselves  to  the  in 
convenience  of  any  debt,  however  small:  but  I  know  that 
this  is  an  error  into  which  youthful  heedlessness  is  too  apt  to 
run.  If  you  have  escaped  it,  you  have  exercised  more  judg 
ment  than  I  possessed  at  your  age;  the  want  of  which  cost 


gg  LETTERS  OF 

me  many  a  heart-ache.  When  any  bauble  caught  my  fancy, 
I  would,  perhaps,  buy  it  on  credit,  and  always  for  twice  as 
much,  at  least,  as  it  was  worth.  In  a  day  or  two,  cloyed  with 
the  possession  of  what,  to  my  youthful  imagination,  had  ap 
peared  so  very  desirable,  I  would  readily  have  given  it  away 
to  the  first  comer;  but,  in  discarding  it,  I  could  not  exonerate 
myself  from  the  debt  which  I  had  unwittingly  incurred, the  re 
collection  of  which  incessantly  haunted  me.  Many  a  night's 
sleep  has  been  broken  by  sad  reflection,  on  the  difficulty  into 
which  I  had  plunged  myself,  and  in  devising  means  of  extri 
cation.  At  the  approach  of  my  creditor,  1  shrunk,  and  looked, 
no  doubt,  as  meanly  as  \felt:  for  the  relation  between  debtor 
and  creditor  is  that  of  a  slave  to  his  master.  It  begins  with 
the  subjugation  of  the  mind,  and  ends  with  the  enslavement 
of  the  body.  The  ancients  sold  the  person  of  the  debtor  to 
slavery  for  the  benefit  of  the  creditor;  we  imprison  it:  nei 
ther  punishment  too  severe  for  the  wretch,  who  is  abject 
enough  to  submit  to  conditions  which  may,  ultimately,  lead 
to  so  humiliating  a  consequence.  The  most  intolerable  por 
tion  of  his  lot  is  its  degradation,  and  to  this  he  has  deliberate 
ly  consented  to  subject  himself,  upon  a  contingency!  At  the 
same  time,  he  must  have  the  soul  of  Nero,  who  could  inflict 
upon  a  fellow  being  so  much  misery,  (and  this  is  the  strong 
est  argument  against  capital  punishment:  for  human  butche 
ry  presupposes  human  butchers,  monsters  whom  society 
should  not  tolerate,  much  less  nourish  in  her  bosom;)  I  ex 
cept,  however,  the  case  of  a  fraudulent  debtor.  For  if  he 
may  be  enslaved  in  the  penitentiary,  who  steals  a  dollar,  sure 
ly  he  may  be  punished  with  imprisonment,  or  hard  labour, 
who  dishonestly  embezzles,  or  withholds,  a  hundred,  which 
he  justly  owes,  and  is  able  to  pay.  He  is  the  greater  rogue 
of  the  two,  for  he  adds  breach  of  trust  to  robbery.  You  did 
not  trust  the  highwayman  who  forcibly,  or  the  thief  who  pri 
vately,  took  your  dollar,  or  your  money.  You  never  put  it  into 
their  hands  with  a  sacred  promise,  expressed,  or  implied,  to 
restore  it  again;  but  secured  it  against  both  as  well  as  you 
could.  Speaking  of  promises,  (and  every  debtor  is  a  pro- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  37 

miser,  and  too  often  a  promise-breaker,)  you  cannot  be  too 
much  on  your  guard  against  them,  unless  where  the  per 
formance  is  undoubtedly  in  your  power,  and,  at  the.  same 
time,  will  conduce  to  your  honour  or  benefit,  or  those  of 
another.  When  I  was  a  boy,  I  was  sometimes  betrayed  into 
promises,  by  the  artful  solicitation  of  others,  principally  ser 
vants,  whom  I  had  not  the  firmness  to  deny.  The  courage 
which  enables  us  to  say  "  no  "  to  an  improper  application, 
cannot  be  too  soon  acquired.  The  want  of  it  has  utterly  ruined 
many  an  amiable  man.  My  word,  in  a  moment  of  facility, 
being  once  passed,  I  was  even  more  tormented  with  the 
thoughts  of  the  obligation  into  which  I  had  unthinkingly  en 
tered,  than  by  the  importunity  of  those  to  whom  it  had  been 
given.  Let  me  advise  you  both  to  profit  by  my  warning, 
and  never  make  a  promise  which  you  can  honourably  avoid. 
When  any  one  proposes  a  matter  to  you,  in  the  least  degree 
repugnant  to  your  feelings,  have  the  courage  to  give  a  reso 
lute,  yet  mild,  denial.  Do  not,  through  false  shame,  through 
a  vicious  modesty,  entrap  yourself  into  a  situation  which 
may  dye  your  cheeks  with  real  shame.  Say,  "  No,  it  will 
not  be  in  my  power;  I  cannot:"  or,  if  it  be  a  thing  which 
you  would  willingly  do,  but  doubt  your  ability,  take  care  to 
say,  "  I  cannot  promise,  but,  if  it  be  in  my  power,  I  will  do 
it"  Remember,  too,  that  no  good  man  will  ever  exact  a 
promise  of  a  boy,  or  a  very  young  person,  but  for  their  good; 
never  for  his  own  benefit.  You  may  safely  promise  to  try 
to  get  so  many  lines  in  Virgil,  &c.;  and  if  you  do  honestly 
endeavour  to  effect  it,  your  word  is  not  forfeited.  In  short, 
a  promise  is  always  a  serious  evil  to  him  who  gives  it;  often 
to  him  who  receives  it;  (unless  it  have  his  advantage  for  its 
object;)  for,  putting  full  faith  in  it,  he  takes  his  measures  ac 
cordingly,  and  is,  perchance,  thereby  ruined.  As  to  the  pro- 
miser,  he  is  like  the  keeper,  who  amused  the  spectators  of 
his  lion  by  putting  his  head  into  the  animal's  mouth.  This 
he  did  frequently,  and  got  it  out  in  safety,  until,  at  last,  the 
lion,  in  a  fit  of  ill-humour,  bit  it  off.  Your  word  ought  to  be 
dearer  to  you  than  your  head;  beware,  then,  how  you  put  it 


38  LETTERS  OF 

into  the  lion's  mouth.  If  it  were  proposed  to  you  to  save 
your  lives  by  a  lie,  and  either  of  you  had  the  weakness  to 
consent,  I  should  pity  him,  but,  at  the  same  time,  despise 
him  from  my  very  soul.  From  all  this,  you  will  readily  in 
fer  how  dangerous  it  is  to  be  the  depository  of  a  secret. 
Curiosity,  my  dear  boys,  is  a  powerful  passion,  but  beware 
of  entering  into  stipulations  with  any  one  for  indulging  it.  He 
who  discloses  his  secret  to  another,  is  generally  supposed  to 
do  that  person  a  favour ;  but  how  falsely,  a  few  moments'  con 
sideration  will  show.  He  who  offers  to  confide  a  secret  to 
you,  takes  a  great  liberty,  and,  in  fact,  asks  you  to  do  him  a 
great  favour,  that  of  keeping  it,  which  none  but  a  friend  has 
any  claim  to  do.  You  would  be  safer,  and  act  a  less  foolish 
part,  to  promise  to  keep  his  money  for  him,  at  your  own  risk, 
and  refund  what  might  be  lost  or  stolen,  because  you  would 
be  sure  that  it  was  in  your  exclusive  custody,  whereas,  the 
secret  may  be,  and,  probably,  has  been,  intrusted  by  the  pos 
sessor  to  others  besides  yourself,  and,  when  he  finds  it  divulged, 
you  are  involved  in  the  general  suspicion.  But  this  is  not  all. 
You  lay  yourself  open  to  embarrassment  in  many  ways.  Sup 
pose  William  Gerard  Hamilton  had  confided  to  you  that  he 
was  the  author  of  the  letters  of  Junius,  and  you  should  be 
questioned  about  it.  If  Hamilton  were  your  friend,  you  would 
have  no  hesitation,  for  it  would  be  your  duty,  boldly  to  un 
dertake  the  preservation  of  his  secret,  and  faithfully  to  per 
form  it;  but  why  all  this  for  a  stranger?  unless  that  stranger 
be  friendless,  and  have  qualities  to  recommend  him  to  your 
esteem  or  compassion.  Having  become  the  depository  of  a 
secret,  it  must  be  preserved,  at  whatever  risk.  It  cannot  be 
betrayed  without  infamy.  He  who  does  it  is  a  perjured 
traitor.  Well !  you  are  asked,  "  Do  you  know  the  author 
of  Junius  ?"  You  may  reply,  (because  it  is  an  unfair  ques 
tion,)  "  What  right  have  you  to  inquire  ?"  But,  suppose  Ha 
milton  to  be  suspected,  and  you,  being  in  habits  of  particu 
lar  intimacy  with  him,  are  supposed  to  know,  and  are  di 
rectly  asked  "  Is  not  William  Gerard  Hamilton  the  author 
of  Junius?"  What's  to  be  done?  If  you  falter,  or  are 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  39 

silent,  you  betray  your  friend  as  effectually  as  if  you  an 
swered  affirmatively, "  He  is."  This  is  a  painful  predicament, 
indeed,  to  an  ingenuous  mind.  You  cannot  betray  your  friend 
without  incurring  the  blackest  guilt.  Your  obligation  to  him 
is  anterior  to  the  other,  and  supersedes  it ;  for  the  condition 
upon  which  you  were  trusted  was  that  you  should  not  disclose 
it,  and  that  condition  embraces  this  very  case.  You  have 
then  stipulated  with  him  that  if  you  are  asked  the  question, 
you  will  say  "  NO,'  and  endeavour  to  look  "  NO."  This  stipu 
lation  is  virtually  contained  in  that  to  keep  the  secret.  Your 
part  then  is  decided  :  you  give  a  firm  denial  j — the  only  case 
in  which  it  is  permitted  to  violate  truth,  and  that  for  its  pre 
servation.  But,  remember,  there  must  be  no  concealed  guilt 
in  that  latent  truth.  When  the  Persian  youth  were  taught  to 
draw  the  bow,  to  speak  the  truth,  and  to  keep  a  secret,  (which, 
in  fact,  is  nothing  but  adhering  to  the  truth,  the  divulger  be 
ing,  at  once,  a  liar  and  a  traitor,)  they  overran  all  the  west- 
tern  Asia ;  but  when  they  became  corrupt  and  unfaithful  to 
their  word,  a  handful  of  Greeks  was  an  over-match  for  mil 
lions  of  them.  A  liar  is  always  a  coward.  I  have  thus,  my 
dear  boys,  thrown  out,  at  greater  length  than  I  intended,  some 
principles  for  your  consideration.  Keep  this  letter,  and  read 
it  again — but  do  not  show  it;  not  that  I  am  ashamed  of  it; 
but  it  is  not  right  to  show  letters,  or  repeat  private  conversa 
tion,  except  in  very  particular  circumstances.  Never  do  it, 
until  you  are  old  enough  to  judge  of  those  circumstances,  and 
then  with  scrupulous  delicacy. 

On  Saturday,  the  river  was  almost  as  low  as  it  was  last 
summer,  and,  by  the  middle  of  the  next  day,  there  was  the 
highest  fresh  that  has  been  known  since  August,  1795,  the 
month  before  you  were  born,  my  dear  Buona.  Do  you  know 
that  there  are  Sorees  (vulgo  Soarusses)  here.  I  killed  one  in 
the  ice-pond,  just  before  I  went  to  Roanoke,  and  Mr.  Wood- 
son  tells  me  that  he  has  killed  four,  besides  a  great  many  or 
tolans.  I  returned  from  Roanoke,  after  a  fortnight's  absence, 
last  night,  and,  whilst  there,  I  killed  ortolans  in  abundance. 
This  puts  me  in  mind,  my  dear  Theodore,  to  request  that  you 


40  LETTERS  OF 

will  bring  me  the  articles  of  which  you  have  a  list  subjoined, 
God  bless  you  both,  my  dear  boys. 

Your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
Mr.  T.  B.  DUDLEY  and  T.  T,  RANDOLPH. 

My  compliments  to  Dr.  H.  I  am  sorry  to  see  his  Latin  mas 
ters  changed  so  often. 

Call  at  Mr.  Charles  Johnston's,  and  inquire  whether  there 
are  any  letters  there  for  me.  Also,  whether  there  is  any 
news  of  the  ships  Calpe,  Desdemona,  or  Rolla  1 — or  any  late 
arrival  from  London?  Bring  me,  also,  the  last  newspapers ; 
take  a  memorandum  of  the  ships'  names. 


« 
LETTER  XX. 

Nov.  15, 1807. 
MY  DEAR  SON, 

I  HAVE  been  three  long  weeks  at  this  place;  almost 
all  the  time  in  bad  health  and  worse  spirits,  and  not  a  line 
have  I  received  from  yourself  or  Buona.  I  hoped  you  would 
have  informed  me  how  you  spent  your  time — what  books 
you  had  read — how  many  partridges,  .&c.,  you  had  killed — 
what  visits  you  had  paid  or  received,  and,  above  all,  how 
your  cousin's  health,  which  I  left  in  the  most  delicate  state, 
stood  affected.  When  I  have  strength  and  leisure,  I  will 
write  to  you  fully  on  the  subject  of  our  last  conversation: 
at  present  I  am  incapable.  Mean  while,  for  whatever  you 
want,  apply  to  Major  Scott,  who  will  furnish  you  at  a  mo 
ment's  warning. 

Your  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Ask  Dr.  Robinson  if  he  received  a  letter  from  me. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  41 

LETTER  XXI. 

Georgetown,  Nov.  27,  1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  has  afforded  me  a  pleasure  which  I  ne 
ver  fail  to  receive  from  your  communications.     Your  pre 
sent  situation,  my  son,  is  not  exactly  that  which  I  would 
wish,  but  I  cannot  select  one  more  eligible,  at  this  time.     If, 
however,  you  make  a  proper  use  of  your  present  opportu 
nity,  slender  as  it  is,  you  cannot  fail  to  derive  much  useful 
information  from  it.     You  are  now  of  an  age,  my  dear  boy, 
when  the  mind,  no  longer  passive  to  impression,  begins  to 
exert  itself.     The  elements  of  knowledge  are  within  your 
self,  and  the  rest,  of  course,  within  your  reach.     We,  all  of 
us,  have  two  educations;  one  which  we  receive  from  others 
— another,  and  the  most  valuable,  which  we  give  ourselves. 
It  is  this  last  which  fixes  our  grade  in  society,  which  deter 
mines,  eventually,  our  actual  value  in  this  life,  and,  perhaps, 
the  colour  of  our  fate  hereafter.    Yes,  my  dear  Theodore, 
your  destiny  is  in  your  own  hands;  nor  would  all  the  pro 
fessors  and  teachers  in  the  world  make  you  a  wise  and  good 
man  without  your  own  co-operation;  and,  if  such  you  are 
determined  to  be,  it  is  not  the  want  of  them  that  can  pre 
vent  it 

You  are  mistaken  in  supposing  that  there  are  no  English 
books  in  the  press,  the  key  of  which  I  left  with  you:  behind 
the  Encyclopaedia  are  some  cumbrous  folios,  none  of  them 
deserving  your  attention,  except,  perhaps,  Rapin;  but,  in 
the  upper  division,  you  will  find,  behind  Voltaire  and  Rous 
seau,  nearly  a  hundred  volumes,  amongst  which  are  Hume, 
Belsham,  and  many  others,  which  I  consider  as  standard 
works  that  you  cannot  be  too  well  acquainted  with.  There 
is  a  little  manuscript  catalogue  of  them  on  the  shelf;  and,  if 
you  will  send  it  me,  I  will  mark  such  as  you  would  do  well 
to  read,  noting  the  order.  There  are,  besides,  the  books  in 
the  cabinet,  to  say  nothing  of  your  lexicons,  atlases,  &c.  I 

6 


42  LETTERS  OF 

would  advise  you,  in  reading,  to  consult  the  Encylopasdis 
when  you  meet  with  a  difficult  article;  always  resorting  for 
the  meaning  of  words,  which  you  do  not  understand,  to  the 
Dictionnaire  de  P Academic,  in  the  first  instance,  and  never 
to  the  French  and  English  dictionary,  but  from  necessity. 
It  will  enlarge  your  knowledge  of  the  language,  more  than 
you  are  aware  of.  I  would  recommend,  too,  frequent  trans 
lations  from  the  French,  which,  when  the  original  has  faded 
from  your  mind,  you  may  retranslate  in  your  own  style,  and 
then  compare  it  with  your  author. 

I  rejoice  to  hear  of  your  amusement  with  your  gun,  and 
that  you  are  regaining  your  skill.  I  hope  even  Buona 
will  soon  come  to  beat  me  on  the  wing.  Give  my  love  to 
him:  I  long  to  see  his  rosy  cheeks.  My  love,  also,  to 
Sally. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy. 

I  am  your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,    « 

THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

Write  by  the  Orleans  mail.  Remember  me  kindly  to 
the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  R.,  and  to  Hodijah,  also.  Tell  the  for- 
raer  I.  have  received  his  letter,  and  thank  him  for  it. 


LETTER  XXII. 

Dec.  11, 180T. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WAS  more  mistaken  than  I  thought  I  was,  in  respect 
to  the  English  books  in  the  press,  the  keys  of  which  I  left 
you/  But  I  trust  you  have  enough  to  employ  you  until  my 
return.  I  have,  literally,  nothing,  my  dear  boy,  to  say  to 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  43 

you,  except  to  express  my  unceasing  solicitude  for  your  wel 
fare.     Having  made  a  party  to  shoot  to-morrow,  I  feared  I 
might  not  have  time  on  my  return  to  write  even  a  few  lines, 
which  I  feel  confident  you  are  always  glad  to  receive  from 
Your  affectionate  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  XXIII. 

Dec.  19,  1807. 
MY  DE,iR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  17th,  and 
*  thanfc  you  for  it,  as  I  am  always  gratified  at  hearing  from 
you.  Perhaps  you  could  not  do  better  than  to  begin  Hume 
(as  you  have  read  it  once)  with  the  reign  of  Elizabeth,  and 
read  with  attention  that  important  period,  and  also  the  reign 
of  Charles  I.,  the  Protectorate,  and  Charles  and  James  II. 
The  civil  wars  cannot  be  studied  too  deeply. 

I  have  very  pleasing  intelligence  of  your  old  companion 
St.  George.  He  was  well,  at  Paris,  on  the  25th  of  October; 
has  made  great  proficiency  in  drawing,  and  will  soon  begin 
sculpture  on  fine  stones,  (seals,  &c.,)  and  painting. 

Voltaire  is  a  most  sprightly,  agreeable  writer,  but  not  al 
ways  to  be  depended  upon  for  facts.  His  Charles  XII.  and 
Peter  are  his  most  accurate  works.  The  Siecle  de  Louis 
XIV.  is,  upon  the  whole,  not  an  unfaithful  history;  and,  as  a 
picture  of  the  manners  of  that  age,  is  unique.  Compare 
the  Dutch  now,  with  what  they  were  then.  I  sometimes 
try  to  believe  that  their  present  degradation  is  a  visitation  of 
God  for  the  massacre  of  the  De  Witts.  May  we,  my  dear 
son,  take  warning  of  the  fate  of  that  once  powerful  repub 
lic.  Their  cruel  task-master  is  now  forging  chains  for  us. 


44  LETTERS  OF 

God  bless  you — and  make  you  good,  and  learned,  and 
happy.     The  two  first  are  in  your  own  power. 
Your  fond  uncle,  and  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  XXIV. 

J«n.  10, 1808. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  barely  time  to  thank  you  for  your  letter,  with 
its  accompaniment.     You  have  retained  the  French  idiom 

in  several  instances  in  your  version  of  Miss  M s  letter. 

You  must,  my  dear  son,  be  in  want  of  various  things  Acces 
sary  to  your  time  of  life.     Enclosed  is  a  trifle,  which 
assist  in  supplying  some  of  them. 
My  love  to  Tudor  and  Sally. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
THEODORE  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  XXV. 

Georgetown,  Jan.  31,  1808. 
MY  DEAR  BOYS, 

You  have  given  me  cause  to  complain  of  you.  You 
have,  indeed,  assigned  as  a  reason  for  your  silence,  the  want 
of  a  subject  on  which  to  write.  But  surely  you  might  send 
me  some  translation,  Latin,  French,  or  English,  which 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  45 

would  serve  to  amuse  a  solitary  hour,  (for  I  am  almost  with 
out  society  or  books,)  and  afford  proof  of  your  application. 
I  do  most  earnestly  exhort  you  both  to  a  proper  employ 
ment  of  your  time — which,  now  misspent,  is  for  ever  lost. 

When  you  see  Hodijah,  remember  me  very  cordially  to 
him.  I  have  sometimes  hoped  that  he  would  write  to  me; 
but  it  seems  I  flattered  myself  in  vain. 

God  bless  you  both:  let  me  know  how  you  employ  your 
selves. 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY  and  T.  T.  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  XXVI. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  12,  1808. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

AMIDST  other  causes  of  uneasiness,  which  press  upon 
me  in  my  present  situation,  I  have  not  been  exempt  from 
much  concern  on  your  account.     I  fear,  my  son,  that  too 
much,  not  only  of  your  time,  but  of  your  attention,  is  es 
tranged  from  those  objects  to  which  they  ought  to  be  almost 
exclusively  directed.     Do   you   know  from  what  circum 
stances  I  have  drawn  this  unpleasant  inference? — from  your 
writing  so  seldom,  and,  when  you  do,  making  no  mention 
of  the  books  which  you  have  read,  much  less  expressing  any 
opinion  concerning  them.     By  this  time,  I  suppose  you 
must  have  finished  Hume  and  Belsham.     Endeavour,  I  be 
seech  you,  to  acquire  a  minute  knowledge  of  English  histo 
ry,  ^specially  since  the  accession  of  the  House  of  Stuart. 
Next  taVe  up  Robertson's  Scotland,  which,  with  more  pro 
priety,  mign.t  be  entitled  his  history  of  Mary.     The  life  of 


46  LETTERS  OF 

Charles  V.,  by  the  same  author,  and  Russell's  Modern  Eu 
rope,  will  give  you  a  tolerable  outline  of  the  history  of  the 
continental  nations,  and  a  review  of  Gibbon's  Decline  and 
Fall  will  afford  the  connexion  between  the  ancient  and  mo 
dern  worlds.  All  these  books  you  will  find  in  the  cabinet. 
Do  not,  however,  permit  history  to  engross  your  attention 
to  the  exclusion  of  languages.  You  may  keep  alive,  and 
even  improve  your  knowledge  of  Latin  and  French  by  a 
very  simple  but  obvious  method.  On  one  day  translate  into 
English  a  passage  from  some  easy  author,  Cassar  or  Tele- 
machus,  for  example;  and,  on  the  next,  restore  them  to  the 
original  language:  then  compare  your  version  with  the  book, 
and  by  it  correct,  with  your  pen,  all  inaccuracies.  This  will 
impress  the  thing  more  deeply  on  your  mind.  At  the  same 
time,  continue  to  read  the  more  difficult  authors,  such  as 
Horace  and  Livy,  (this  last  is  in  the  cabinet,)  with  your  dic 
tionary.  You  will  find  Le  Sage's  Atlas  a  great  help  in  your 
historical  researches.  When  you  see  Dr.  Robinson,  you 
may  consult  him  on  any  difficult  passage  in  the  classics.  Do 
not,  I  beseech  you,  give  up  your  Greek  grammar,  even  if 
you  retain  nothing  but  declensions  and  conjugations. 

Since  I  began  this  letter,  yours  of  the  4th  has  been 
brought  to  me.  You  do  not  mention  the  receipt  of  a  bank 
note  which  I  sent  you  some  weeks  ago.  I  hope  it  came  to 
hand.  How  does  the  stock  fare  this  bad  weather?  Are  the 
Sans-Culottes  fillies  in  good  plight?  An  account  of  matters 
on  the  plantation  might  supply  the  subject  of  a  letter.  How 
is  poor  old  Jacobin?  and  all  the  rest  of  the  houyhnhnms?  I 
hope  you  will  plant  out  some  trees  this  spring,  west  and 
north  of  the  old  house. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Theodore.  I  am,  in  truth,  your  affec 
tionate  kinsman  and  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

THEODORE  B.  DUDLEY. 

I  have  heard  nothing  from  your  father,  or  mother*  since  I 
left  home.  Perhaps  a  letter,  addressed  to  ttem,  "  near 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  47 

Nashville,  Tennessee,"  would  reach  them.  When  you 
write,  present  me  to  them  all,  and  particularly  to  Fanny. 
Apropos: — are  you  aware  that  your  letters,  to  me,  would 
constitute  an  improving  exercise  to  you,  if  you  could  pre 
vail  upon  yourself  to  write  every  week.  You  can  never,  I 
affirm  it,  be  at  a  loss  for  a  subject.  The  occurrences  of  the 
week,  your  oWn  studies,  the  reflections  of  your  mind  upon 
particular  subjects,  form  inexhaustible  topics  for  your  com 
munications.  What  have  /  to  write  about,  more  than  your 
self?  What  portion  of  this  letter  consists  of  narrative  of 
facts. 


LETTER  XXVII. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  28,  1808. 
My  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  last  letter  gave  me  unusual  satisfaction.  Con 
tinue,  I  beseech  you,  my  son,  to  afford  me  the  same  gratifi 
cation  every  week.  An  account  of  your  studies,  and  even 
of  your  amusements,  would  at  all  times  serve  to  amuse  mer 
at  least — and  must  always  be  a  subject  of  interest  to  me.  I 
am  unable,  to-day,  to  do  more  than  express  my  wishes  that 
your  time  may  pass  both  profitably  and  pleasantly;  for,  al 
though  the  fineness  of  the  day  has  tempted  me  to  take  an 
airing  in  a  carriage,  I  do  not  feel  at  all  the  better  for  it.  I 
am  glad  to  hear  that  you  have,  at  last,  received  intelligence 
of  your  parents  and  family,  and  beg  you  to  remember  me 
to  them  all,  when  you  write. 

Greet  the  Doctor  in  my  name,  and  tell  him  that  I  was 
much  concerned  to  see,  by  the  papers,  that  he  has  lost  the 
locks  of  his  fowling-piece,  and  shall  be  glad  to  hear  that  he 
has  found  them  again.  My  best  regards,  also,  to  Mrs.  R., 
and  tell  her  I  hope  my  little  friend  Will  is  well,  although  I 


48  LETTERS  OF 

am  sorry  to  learn  that  I  am  likely  to  lose  him  as  a  neigh 
bour.  Commend  me  to  Hodijah,  who,  I  hope,  has  not  for 
gotten  me. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Theodore,  and  believe  me,  with  the  most 
unfeigned  regard, 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 

THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 
My  love  to  Sally. 


LETTER  XXVIII. 

Georgetown,  March  6, 1808, 
MY  DEAR  BOYS, 

I  INTENDED  to  have  written  to  each  of  you  to-day,  and 
at  considerable  length,  but  I  have  passed  a  very  bad  night, 
and  find  myself  too  much  disordered  to  do  more  than  sayy 
How  do  you  do  ?  and  express  my  earnest  wishes  for  your  well 
being.  My  complaint,  I  believe,  is  a  rheumatic  fever;  for  I 
am  never  free  from  flying  pains,  and  am  very  feverish.  Give 
my  love  to  your  mother,  my  dear  Buona,  and  tell  her  that  I 
will  endeavour  to  send  her  your  brother's  drawings  (some  of 
them,  at  least)  by  Mr.  Earle,  of  South  Carolina,  brother  to 
him  who  once  called  at  Bizarre  to  see  me.  He  is  not  in  Con 
gress,  but  came  here  a  few  days  since,  on  business;  and  he 
tells  me  that  he  will  return  about  the  middle  of  next  week. 
As  he  travels  in  a  chair,  I  hope  he  will  be  able  to  take  the 
drawings  on  with  him.  I  wrote  to  your  mother  yesterday, 
by  the  Orleans  mail. 

My  dear  boys,  remember  me  to  all  our  neighbours,  when 
you  see  them:  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Robinson,  Mr.  Dillon, 
Mr.  Woodson,  Mrs.  Johnston  and  family.  Be  particular  in 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  49 

mentioning  me  to  Hodijah  and  Tom  Murray,  whom  I  thank 
for  his  kind  remembrance  of  me.  God  bless  you  both,  and 
believe  me,  in  truth, 

Your  affectionate  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
Messrs.  THEO.  B.  DUDLEY  and  T.  TUDOR  RANDOLPH. 

My  love  to  Sally. 


LETTER  XXIX. 

Georgetown,  March  13, 1808. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  two  letters,  of  the  28th  of  February  and  6th  of 
March,  both  arrived  by  the  same  post.  It  gives  me  great 
pleasure,  my  dear  son,  to  see  you  so  well  employed;  but,  at 
the  same  time,  I  must  point  out  to  you  some  traces  of  negli 
gence,  as  well  as  some  errors  in  your  translations. 

"Bemfit"  for  "benefit;"  « insilflerable  "  (I  have  tried  to 
imitate  the  character)  for  insufferable.  "  Enough  resources, 
or  room,  or  0/"troops."  Adverbs  of  quantity  govern  the  ge 
nitive;  but  this  is  awkwardly  expressed.  You  have  ren 
dered  the  difficult  passage  very  well;  although  rather  too 
much  in  the  Latin  idiom.  This  fault,  time  will  correct.  I 
find  it  in  your  French  translations  also.  I  would  have  said 
"  should  not  be  refused  by  any,"  although  it  is  in  the  dative, 
"  se  vindicare  in  libertatem;"  restore  themselves  to  liberty, 
or  vindicate  their  liberty,  is  more  literal,  and  equally  ele 
gant  with  "obtain  their  liberty,"  and,  therefore,  better. 
"Least"  is  not  an  English  conjunction;  it  should  be  lest. 
Consult  Home  Tooke  for  this  word.  The  Index  in  the  se 
cond  volume  (I  believe)  will  refer  you  to  the  page  where  it 
is  to  be  found.  "  Marcus  Anthony :"  we  say  Mark  Antho- 

7 


50  LETTERS  OF 

ny,  or  Marcus  Jlntonius.     "Have  began  "  is  not  correct; 
began  is  the  imperfect  tense — begun  is  the  perfect. 

"Il'seufaut  beaucoup"— far  from  if,  or,  much  is  want 
ing.  "  The  Primate,  who  served  so  much  to  the  deposing 
Augustus;"  it  should  be  of  Augustus:  but,  moreover,  this 
English  smells  of  French  too  strongly:  who  contributed  so 
much,  would  have  been  better.  Also,  "the  expedition 
against  (rather  than  of)  Copenhagen."  "  The  instruetions 
upon  which  I  have  worked,  French  idiom  again:  Informa- 
tion — have  written  or  built.  "  It  is  not  a  history,  far  from 
it,  but  they  are  excellent  materials."  Here  is  a  false  concord. 
The  handwriting  is  very  illegible.  For  want  of  the  original, 
I  have  not  been  able  to  correct  as  well  as  I  could  have  wished; 
but,  by  looking  over  it  yourself,  you  will  see  where  my  re 
marks  apply.  And  now,  my  dear  Theodore,  let  me  thank 
you,  which  I  do  most  sincerely,  for  your  letters,  and  request 
a  regular  continuance  of  them.  In  a  short  time,  my  dear  boy, 
I  hope  you  will  be  in  a  more  eligible  situation  for  prosecuting 
your  studies.  You  might  be  in  a  much  worse,  in  any  school 
now  within  your  reach,  unless  your  old  one  has  (as  I  hope) 
changed  materially  for  the  better. 

I  am  sorry  to  hear  that  you  had  not  received  your  linen, 
&c.,  by  the  wagon.  Quasha  could  not  have  called  at  Ellis' 
and  Allan's.  By  this  time,  however,  I  hope  you  have  ob 
tained  them. 

Farewell.  Let  me  know  how  our  neighbours  are.  To 
day,  for  the  first  time  since  my  accident,  I  rode  out  on  horse 
back. 

Yours,  most  affectionately, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

My  love  to  Sally. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  51 

LETTER  XXX. 

Saturday,  March  18,  1808. 

You  were  not  mistaken,  my  dear  Theodore,  in  supposing 
that  I  was  unwell.  I  have  been,  and  am,  very  much  disor 
dered  within  the  last  week;  but  you  were  mistaken  in  as 
cribing  your  not  hearing  from  me  to  that  cause,  for  I  have 
written  to  you  very  regularly.  I  wish,  if  you  hear  any  news 
of  your  mother,  or  her  family,  to  let  me  know  how  they  all 
do,  and,  when  you  write,  to  present  me  to  them  all,  espe 
cially  to  your  sister  Fanny,  for  whom  I  feel  peculiar  regard. 

I  am  surprised  to  hear  that  the  stock,  horses  especially, 
will  be  poor,  since  there  was  such  plenty  of  hay  and  corn. 
I  hope  Mr.  Galding  will  attend  to  poor  little  Minikin. 

In  the  hurry  of  my  last,  I  forgot  to  note,  in  one  of  your 
translations  from  Caesar,  (of  March  6th,)  the  following  inac 
curacies:  "Intol/erable;"  "winterings"  for  winter-quar 
ters. 

In  the  translation  from  Voltaire,  of  March  13th:  "I  yet 
wait  an  extract  "—for  an  extract  would  have  been  better. 
"  I,  who's  intention  " — now,  always  written  ivhose.  In  the 
translation  from  Caesar,  of  the  same  date:  "  Ambusfoades" 
for  ambuscades.  We  say  ambush,  but  not  ambusucade  or 
ambusAscade,  but  ambuscade. 

The  negotiation  with  Mr.  Rose,  the  British  minister,  is  at 
an  end.  But  you  are  no  politician,  I  believe;  and  I  hope 
(for  your  sake)  you  never  may  be.  Remember  me  affection 
ately  to  Sally,  and  to  Hodijah  and  Tom  Murray.  The  Doc 
tor  and  his  charming  wife,  I  hope,  have  not  forgotten  me,  al 
though  I  fear  my  little  friend  William  has.  My  best  regards 
to  them  all. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Theodore. 

Yours,  most  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Mr.  THEODORICK  BLA\D  DUDLEY. 


52  LETTERS  OF 

By  this  time,  I  hope  you  have  been  gratified  with  a  sight 
of  St.  George's*  drawings:  tell  me  what  you  think  of  them. 


LETTER  XXXI. 

Georgetown,  April  3, 1808. 

Mr  dear  Theodore  will  excuse  the  shortness  of  this  hur 
ried  letter,  in  consideration  of  the  fatigue  which  has  almost 
entirely  exhausted  me.  I  thank  you,  my  son,  for  your  in 
telligence  respecting  your  mother*  and  her  family.  Do  not 
forget  to  remember  me  to  her,  and  all  of  them,  when  you 
write.  You  have  spelled  the  present  participle  of  this  verb 
with  a  g  and  an  h,  thus,  "  wrig-Ating" — both  supernumerary 
letters; — the  last  of  which  you  have  cut  off  from  the  poor 
preposition  through — often  written  thro',  but  never  but 
once,  "throug:"  "  which  evil  fell  to,"  instead  of  upon,  &c. 

I  have  sent  you  and  Tudor  four  fish-hooks,  worth  four 
thousand  of  the  common  sort.  Adieu. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Mr.  THEODORE  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

My  best  love  to  Sally. 

*  His  oldest  nephew  was  unfortunately  deaf  and  dumb 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  53 


LETTER  XXXII. 

Saturday,  April  23<Z,  1808. 

Half  past  five. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THIS  is,  probably,  the  last  letter  which  I  shall  write 
for  some  time  to  come,  from  this  place,  at  least;  but,  I  could 
not  refrain  from  letting  you  all  know  that  I  am  not  quite 
dead,  although  nearly  so,  with  the  intolerable  fatigue  of  my 
late  mode  of  life.  I  shall  leave  Georgetown  on  Tuesday 
morning,  and,  if  I  do  not  take  Richmond  in  my  way,  shall 
reach  Bizarre  by  dinner  time,  on  Saturday:  in  which  event 
I  shall  bring  two  or  three  of  my  Georgia  friends  with  me. 
Give  my  best  love  to  your  cousin  Judy,  and  apprize  her  of 
this.  God  bless  you  all. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  XXXIII. 

Nov.  2, 1808. 

I  AM  about  to  leave  you  once  more,  my  dear  boys, 
with  sensations  of  regret  that  I  know  not  how  to  describe. 
You,  however,  1  trust,  will  diminish  that  which  I  now  feel, 
and  assuage  many  more  that  may  be  in  store  for  me,  by  an 
adherence  to  that  propriety  of  conduct  which  I  have  so  often 
delighted  to  observe  in  you.  Cherish,  I  beseech  you,  mutual 
love  and  kindness.  Let  no  childish  and  unseemly  bicker 
ings  disturb  your  peace,  and  that  of  my  sister.  There  is 
one  point  on  which  I  fear  for  you  both — want  of  exertion 
in  the  prosecution  of  your  studies.  Upon  vigorous  and 


54  LETTERS  OF 

steady  application,  all  hopes  of  your  future  advancement 
depend.  Your  hours  of  study  must  be  fixed,  and  not  bro 
ken  in  upon  by  others,  or  wasted  in  lassitude  and  indolence. 
Read  Lord  Chatham's  Letters  again.  Think  that  I  speak  to 
you  in  his  words — accustom  yourselves  to  act,  as  if  in  the 
presence  of  some  friend,  whose  approbation  you  are  solicitous 
to  gain  and  preserve.  You  are,  indeed,  never  out  of  the 
view  of  a  superintending  Providence,  by  whom  all  your  ac 
tions  are  scanned.  Keep  this  eternal  truth  always  in  mind. 
Do  right,  and  you  cannot  fail  to  be  as  happy  as  our  defective 
nature  will  permit  the  sons  of  men  to  be.  Be  true  to  your 
selves  and  to  each  other,  and,  in  the  course  of  your  journey 
through  life,  you  will  find  more  aid  and  comfort  in  the  friend 
ship  formed  in  your  boyish  days,  than  wealth  and  grandeur 
can  afford.  God  bless  you  both — you  shall  hear  from  me 
soon  when  my  mind  is  more  at  rest. 

Your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  XXXIV. 

Georgetown,  Dec,  4,  1808,  (Sunday.) 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  reached  me  yesterday,  but  I  find  myself 
too  much  disordered  to  do  more  than  thank  you  for  it.  I  am 
very  sorry  that  your  socks  were  omitted.  The  readiest  way 
to  supply  the  defect  will  be  to  take  mine,  which  you  will 
find  in  the  upper  drawer  of  my  desk,  and  I  will  procure 
others  in  their  room.  They  are  almost  new.  With  respect 
to  the  military  school,  about  to  be  established  in  Farmville,  I 
should  like  to  know  something  of  its  professors  before  I 
would  consent  to  your  becoming  a  pupil,  even  if  I  approved 
the  institution,  tMz'c^  I  do  not.  I  therefore  hope  that  you 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  55 

will  curb  your  military  spirit  for  the  present.  If  ever  you 
are  attached  to  an  army,  I  hope  it  will  be  in  the  capacity  of 
a  surgeon — a  curer,  not  an  inflictor  of  wounds. 

Farewell,  my  dear  boy.  My  love  to  your  sister,  your 
cousin,  and  Tudor.  I  am  not  positively  sick;  but  weak,  gid 
dy,  and  what  is  worse  (I  fear)  low-spirited.  For  this  last 
disease  there  is  unfortunately  neither  physician  nor  medi 
cine. 

Yours,  affectionately, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  XXXV. 

Georgetown,  Dec.  11, 1808. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

ON  looking  over  my  letters  from  home  I  perceive  that 
your  last  is  dated  on  the  30th  of  November.  As  the  several 
mails  afford  you  three  distinct  channels  for  writing  every 
week,  I  cannot  but  feel  somewhat  neglected  by  you.  You 
complain  of  the  want  of  a  theme;  cannot  you  (to  say  nothing 
of  family  affairs  and  neighbourhood  incidents)  give  me  your 
opinion  of  some  interesting  character  whom  you  have  met 
with  in  history,  or  of  the  historian  himself,  or  any  other  au 
thor  whom  you  may  have  read.  Nay,  a  translation  from  the 
Latin  and  French,  alternately,  would  be  acceptable. 

I  must  request  you  to  hear  Tudor  a  lesson  in  the  Greek 
grammar  every  day,  and  not  to  permit  him  to  say  it  until  he 
can  repeat  it  perfectly.  I  would  have  you  read  Horace 
(with  Francis'  translation)  three  times  a  week.  With  Rus 
sell's  Modern  Europe  there  will  be  no  propriety  in  mingling 
ancient  history.  After  you  have  finished  it,  you  may  refresh 
yourself  in  ancient  history  with  Rollin,  which  Tom  Murray 


56  LETTERS  OF 

will  lend  you,  or  which  you  can  have  sent  down  from  Roan- 
oke.  In  reading  Russell,  I  advise  you  to  make  a  small  chro 
nological  table  of  the  most  remarkable  contemporary  events 
and  celebrated  men.  This  will  prevent  the  confusion  of 
mind  which  skipping  from  subject  to  subject,  is  otherwise 
almost  sure  to  occasion.  You  will  find  Le  Sage's  Atlas  of 
great  benefit,  also.  In  French,  I  recommend  to  you  Voltaire's 
History  of  Russia,  if  (as  I  believe)  you  have  not  read  it. 

My  best  love  to  your  sister  and  cousin,  and  to  Tudor.  Do 
not  fail  to  present  me,  in  the  most  friendly  terms,  to  Doctor 
and  Mrs.  R.,  and  Tom,  and  to  our  good  neighbour  Mr.  Dil 
lon,  also.  When  you  see  Mr.  Woodson,  make  my  respects 
to  him,  and  tell  him  that  my  shooting  days  are,  I  fear,  over. 
Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore, 

I  am  your  affectionate  friend 

and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

I  still  continue  weak  and  giddy;  writing  is  particularly  op 
pressive  to  me.  I  send  my  sister  some  more  papers.  I  trust 
they  will  serve  to  amuse  her. 

When  I  inquire  whether  you  have  delivered  my  messages, 
I  hope  I  shall  not  have  the  mortifying  answer  that  you  for 
got  to  do  it. 


LETTER  XXXVI. 

House  of  Representatives,  Dec.  19, 1808. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  was  duly  received,  and  I  sincerely  thank 
you  for  it.    I  have  not  time,  my  dear  son,  to  do  more,  except 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  57 

to  request  that  you  will  give  me  some  account  of  the  daily 
and  regular  employment  of  your  time.  Your  cousin  Judy 
sends  me  very  flattering  accounts  of  your  progress  in  short- 
ening,  which  reminds  me  to  ask  you  to  take  out  my  new 
double-barrelled  gun,  on  some  clear,  dry  day,  and  with  a 
small  tow  wad,  on  the  end  of  a  long  ram-rod,  wipe  the  ante 
chamber  dry  and  clear. 

My  love  to  your  cousin,  your  sister,  and  Tudor,  and  be 
lieve  me,  with  true  regard, 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

I  send  your  cousin  the  last  Intelligencer,  of  this  morning's 
date,  and  some  other  interesting  papers.  The  narrative  of 
Don  P.  Cevallos  is  well  worth  perusal. 

Remember  me  to  the  Doctor  and  family. 


LETTER  XXXVII. 

Dec.  25, 1808. 
MY  DEAR  BOYS, 

You  must  not  think  that  I  neglect  you.  I  have  bare 
ly  time  to  thank  you  for  your  letters,  and  to  request  that 
you  will  continue  to  write  to  me,  regularly  once  a  week. 
My  health  and  avocations  will,  I  fear,  preclude  me  from  be 
ing  as  good  a  correspondent  as  I  have  heretofore  been;  but 
you  must  not  mind  that.  Give  my  love  to  your  mother, 
my  dear  Tudor.  I  wrote  to  her  by  the  Orleans  mail  yester 
day,  (which  brought  me  no  letter,)  and  sent  her  a  book; 
Scott's  Lay  of  the  last  Minstrel.  Give  my  love,  also,  to 
Sally,  my  dear  Theodore,  and  to  your  friends  in  Tennessee, 

8 


58  LETTERS  OF 

when  you  write  to   them.     Enclosed,  is  a  Christmas-box^ 
which  you  will  divide  between  you.     Adieu,  my  sons. 

Yours,  in  haste, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 

My  best  regards  to  the  Doctor,  Mrs.  R.,  and  Tom.* 


LETTER  XXXVIII. 

Dec.  30,  1808. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE,. 

I  THANK  you  for  your  letter,  but  not  for  your  trans 
lation.  It  bears  every  mark  of  the  hand  of  negligence,  and  I 
beg  that  I  may  receive  no  more  of  such  careless  and  hurried 
performances.  "  Nonum  prematur  in  annum"  is  the  max 
im  of  the  great  Roman  critic.  I  do  not  see,  therefore,  why 
you  should  not  keep  your  compositions  at  least  half  as  many 
days;  instead  of  sending  me  what  you  have  just  scribbled  off, 
in  a  hurry,  without  time,  perhaps,  to  read  it  over  once;  for 
I  observe  that  the  post  mark  and  date  of  your  letter  are  the 
same.  It  is  hard  to  say  whether  the  Latin  or  English  be  most 
defective.  We  have  "  volente"  for  volentes;  "  obliquam  " 
for  obliquum;  "  ratae"  for  rotss,  &c. ;  besides  many  words 
written  in  an  indistinct  character,  well  adapted  to  conceal  in- 
accuracies  of  termination.  li  Junctamq.  aquitonibus  arc- 
ton" — "and  the  Dearborn  to  it  on  the  north,"  is  neither 
the,  sense,  nor  is  it  grammar:  joined  to  what  ?  polem  austra- 
tem?  By  no  means;  but  exactly  the  reverse.  We  do  not 
say  "tracks  of  the  wheels;"  "track  of  the  wheel"  is  the 
coachman's  phrase.  But  the  worst  is  yet  to  come.  "  Ut- 

*  Young  Mr.  Murray,  who  was  reading  medicine  with  Dr.  Robinson* 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  59 

Jkrant  ^EQUOS  et  ccelum  and  terra  calores;"  and  as 
heaven  and  earth  enjoy  (or  receive)  equal  heat,  which  you 
render  "and  as  both  heaven  and  earth  are  nourished  by  the 
warmth  of  the  horses."  Equos  for  a?quos;  but  there  is  no 
such  adjective,  as  equus.  It  makes,  if  I  forget  not,  equinus. 
Can  you  believe,  too,  that  you  have  made  an  English  word 
of  aram?  (to  satisfy  you  I  enclose  the  original,)  thus:  a  ram. 
A  ram,  too,  of  all  the  animals  in  the  world,  is,  it  seems,  fe 
minine;  " press Amq.  aram,"  says  Ovid;  but  he,  perchance, 
did  not  understand  Latin.  In  your  next,  I  flatter  myself 
that  you  will  give  me  a  proof  of  what  you  allege  in  one  of 
your  late  letters,  "  that  you  have  grown  more  attentive  than 
formerly."  In  this  expectation,  I  remain 

Your  affectionate  kinsman  and  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

I  have  no  objection  to  your  going  with  your  cousin  to 
Clifton. 


LETTER  XXXIX. 

Georgetown,  Jan.  13,  1809. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  8th  reached  me  this  morning.  I 
had  anticipated  your  mortification  at  the  sight  of  mine,  and 
the  translation  enclosed  in  it;  nor  have  I  been  disappointed. 
You,  my  son,  I  trust,  will  acquit  me  of  any  unnecessary  or 
wanton  injury  to  your  feelings,  which  I  would  forbear  to 
wound,  as  if  they  were  my  own.  It  is  only  to  heal,  that  I 
would  probe.  I  confidently  expect,  therefore,  by  the  next 
post,  a  proof  of  the  good  effect  of  your  own  judicious  re 
flections  upon  the  disagreeable  subject  of  my  last.  Your 


60  LETTERS  OF 

own  good  sense,  my  dear  boy, — if  you  give  it  fair  play, — • 
backed  by  industry,  will  ensure  you  a  competent  degree  of 
proficiency  in  whatsoever  pursuit  you  may  engage.  But,  to 
choose  a  more  agreeable  theme: — I  am  glad  to  hear,  from 
your  cousin  Judy,  that  you  did  not  so  suffer  from  the  cold  on 
your  journey  from  Clifton,  but  that  you  have  been  able  to 
enjoy  the  fine  exercise  of  skating  since  your  return  home. 
You  will  not  fail,  I  hope,  to  harden  yourself  by  active  ex 
posure  in  the  open  air,  against  the  diseases  to  which  a  seden 
tary  life  is  subject.  This  may  be  done  without  intrenching 
too  much  on  study.  "  Omne  tulit  punctum,  qui  miscuit 
utile  dulci."  May  you,  my  dear  boy,  who  are  a  great 
marksman,  hit  this  happy  medium.  I  write  under  conside 
rable  indisposition,  and  with  two  gentlemen  talking  around 
me,  and  often  TO  ME.  I  must,  therefore,  ask  your  excuse 
for  my  incoherence,  and  abrupt  conclusion. 
I  am,  as  ever, 

Your  affectionate  kinsman  and  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
THEO.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

My  best  regards  to  Dr.  and  Mrs.  R,,  and  Tom  Murray, 
and  my  love  to  Sally.  Have  you  seen  any  woodcocks  this 
season?  I  have  not  heard  of  more  than  one  that  has  "been 
shot;  and  that  was  by  Mr.  Garnet,  just  after  the  meeting  of 
Congress — which  I  saw. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  Gl 

LETTER  XL. 

Library  of  Congress,  Jan.  17,  1809. 
Mv  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  13th  arrived  this  morning,  and  I 
trust  the  apprehension  it  expresses  has  been  dispelled  by  my 
last;  although,  to  say  the  truth,  I  was  by  no  means  pleased. 
Your  translation  bears  scarcely  any  resemblance  to  its  pre 
decessor;  being,  with  a  single  exception,  literally  correct: 
which  proves  that  when  you  commit  gross  errors,  it  is  not 
from  a  want  of  ability  to  avoid  them;  and,  indeed,  impresses 
me  with  a  belief  that,  when  you  choosey  you  can  excel 
" Labour  is  necessary  to  excellence."  Without  the  one, 
the  other  never  did,  nor  can  exist,  in  any  pursuit  of  human 
life.  But,  to  my  criticism: — invito  parenti  is  improperly 
rendered  by  "  desponding  father."  I  do  not  find  that 
invitus  is  ever  used  in  that  sense.  Such,  certainly,  was  not 
Ovid's  meaning.  "  He  returns  thanks  to  his  reluctant  fa 
ther;"  to  his  father,  unwilling  to  trust  him  with  the  cha 
riot. 

I  must  still  urge  you  to  endeavour  to  attain  that  great  de 
sideratum  of  writing — distinctness  of  character;  a  more  im 
portant  point  than  you  are,  perhaps,  aware  of.  The  want  of 
it  is  particularly  to  be  remarked  in  your  writing,  where  m, 
n,  and  u  come  together.  Thus,  the  word  etiamnum  is 
written  somewhat  like  this — ctianimun.  This  proceeds 
from  leaving  more  space  between  the  members  of  the  same 
letter  than  between  the  letters  themselves;  and  from  a  very 
ridiculous,  though  common  practice  (I  might  say  affectation) 
of  turning  the  n  and  u,  in  the  same  way — thus,  u  u.  By 
giving  due  space  between  your  letters  and  words,  and  wri 
ting  uprightly,  and  with  the  point  of  your  pen,  holding  it 
as  nearly  perpendicular  to  the  paper  as  possible,  your  object 
will  be  gained.  If  you  examine  print,  you  will  find  its 
great  legibility  to  be  owing  to  the  length  of  the  body  of  the 


62  LETTERS  OF 

letter,  (not  of  the  heads  and  tails,)  and  to  a  regular  space 
preserved  between  the  letters  and  words,  respectively.  I 
am  sorry  that  my  example  should  not  comport  more  with 
my  precept:  but  my  paper  is  greasy;  and,  moreover,  he 
who  writes  ill  at  twenty,  will,  at  forty,  be  altogether  ille 
gible. 

I  would  not  mix  ancient  with  modern  history:  as  soon, 
therefore,  as  you  finish  Goldsmith,  which  is  a  very  concise 
but  admirable  compilation,  and  cannot  detain  you  long,  I 
would  stick  to  Hume  and  Belsham.  I  shall  bring  you  Mr. 
Fox's  history  when  I  return  home.  It  is  but  a  fragment — 
but  a  most  precious  one.  It  corrects  some  important  errors 
of  Hume,  respecting  Charles  and  James  II.,  who  had  not 
(that  is  Hume)  access  to  the  information  from  which  Mr. 
Fox  wrote. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Theodore. 

I  am,  very  truly,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

My  best  love  to  your  sister,  and  cousin  Judy,  and  Tudor. 
Recall  me  to  the  recollection  of  our  neighbours  Robinsons 
and  Dillons. 


LETTER  XLI. 

Georgetown,  June  18,  1809. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THE  Orleans  post  brought  me  your  letter  of  the  15th 
last  night,  when  I  was  too  much  occupied  to  thank  you  for 
it.  I  had  barely  time  to  scribble  a  few  lines  to  your  cousin 
Judyj  and,  indeed,  I  have  scarcely  more  leisure  to-day.  I 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  63 

am,  indeed,  oppressed  with  labours,  to  which  my  undivided 
exertions  are  inadequate.  I  highly  commend  the  manner  in 
which  you  speak  of  your  sense  of  the  obligations  which  you 
owe  your  cousin.  The  sentiment  is  highly  honourable  to 
you,  my  son;  and  is,  in  itself,  the  noblest  return  which  you 
could  make  to  the  kindnesses  which  you  have  received  from 
her.  Present  her  and  Sally  with  my  best  love. 

Mr.  Hall  must  exercise  his  own  discretion,  under  the  di 
rection  of  Mrs.  Randolph,  in  relation  to  the  objects  of  his 
duty.  I  hope  that  old  Caesar  has  taken  all  the  mares,  &c.,  to 
Roanoke. 

I  enclose  you  a  paper,  which,  when  you  have  read  it? 
please  to  send  to  our  good  neighbour  Mr.  Dillon;  and  ask 
him  to  return  those  which  I  have  enclosed  him,  (if  he  has 
no  use  for  them,}  that  you  may  file  them.  I  hope  Louisa 
does  not  neglect  to  sun  my  clothes,  &c.;  particularly  the  pad 
of  my  new  saddle.  Charge  her  to  take  care  that  they  are 
not  exposed  to  rain,  or  dew. 

God  bless  you,  my  son.  Continue  to  write  to  me;  and 
be  a  little  more  copious  on  the  subject  of  your  studies  and 
occupations.  Even  your  sports  have  an  interest  for  me. — 
Farewell! 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 

Have  you  any  tidings  of  my  dirk? 


64  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  XLII. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  12, 1800, 
Sunday  morning. 

MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  THANK  you  for  your  letters  as  marks  of  your  re 
membrance  and  regard;  but  I  could  wish  to  see  in  them  evi 
dences  of  your  reading  and  observation.  Your  last,  for  ex 
ample,  contains  only  a  scanty  page,  loosely  written,  in  which 
no  mention  is  made  of  your  studies,  and  is  accompanied  (like 
the  two  preceding  it)  by  no  exercise.  Amend  this  defect,  I 
pray  you. 

Did  I  caution  you  against  mixing  ancient  with  modern  his 
tory?  Avoid  it,  by  all  means.  It  is  as  pernicious  as  the 
reading  of  different  histories  of  the  same,  or  contemporary 
events,  is  the  reverse.  I  recommended  Rollin,  because  he  will 
give  you  a  pretty  good  general  notion  of  the  more  ancient 
nations,  and  a  tolerable  account  of  Alexander's  successors, 
concerning  whom  our  compilations  are  very  defective.  This 
outline,  however,  is  not  always  correct.  Of  him  and  Bishop 
Newton,  who  wrote  on  the  prophecies,  it  has  been  remarked 
that  "  both  these  authors  represent  Herodotus  as  a  fabler; — 
Xenophon's  Cyropaedia,"  a  romance  which  probably  served 
as  the  model  for  Fenelon's  Telemachus,  "as  history; — Isai 
ah's  prophecies,  as  applying  to  the  siege  of  Babylon,  by  Cy- 
ruS)  instead  of  that  by  Darius; — and  Darius  as  having  pre 
ceded  Astyages:  four  notorious  and  fundamental  historical 
blunders."  Indeed,  compilations  are,  generally,  but  a  sort 
of  apology  for  history.  The  original  authors  ought,  in  all 
cases,  to  be  consulted,  when  practicable.  Thus,  Herodotus, 
Thucydides,  Polybius,  and  Livy,  should  be  read,  in  prefer 
ence  to  those  who  have  made  books,  merely  by  pillaging 
these  invaluable  ancients.  I  have  passed  a  very  bad  night 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  65 

The  pain  (in  my  side,  particularly,)  is  much  increased.     I 
must,  therefore,  bid  you  farewell. 

I  am  your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

Take  care  of  the  New  York  Herald,  which  I  enclosed  your 
cousin  last  night.  Remember  me  kindly  to  the  Doctor  and 
Mrs.  Robinson,  and  Tom  Murray,  and  little  Will.  Also,  to 
Mr.  Dillon. 

There  was  a  sudden  change  of  weather  in  the  course  of 
last  night.  It  is  raw  and  cold.  A  little  snow  has  fallen,  and 
we  are  threatened  with  more.  I  hope  this  is  the  source  of 
my  increased  pain.  Tell  your  cousin  so.  My  love  to  her 
and  Sally,  and  Tudor. 


LETTER  XLIII. 

House  of  Representatives,  Feb.  25, 1809. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  (of  the  20th,  if  I  mistake  not,)  was  re 
ceived  last  night.  You  speak  of  not  hearing  from  me,  not  re 
collecting  that  I  might,  with  greater  propriety,  make  the 
same  complaint  of  you,  who  are  incommoded  neither  by  ill 
health,  nor  incessant  labour.  This  is  probably  the  last  letter 
which  you  will  receive  from  me  whilst  I  remain  here.  God 
be  praised!  our  next  communication  will  (with  his  blessing) 
be  verbal.  I  rejoice,  my  dear  boy,  at  the  prospect  of  so  soon 
seeing  you  all.  I  have  no  time  to  criticise  your  translation; 
indeed,  I  have  it  not  with  me.  I  enclosed  you,  this  morning, 
a  newspaper  in  French.  You  may  amuse  yourself  in  trans- 

9 


66  LETTERS  OF 

kting  it,  and  I  will  compare  it  with  its  counterpart,  in  Eng 
lish,  which  I  have  preserved.  The  advertisements  make  a 
very  good  exercise,  as  they  abound  in  idiomatical  phrases.  I 
must  request  you  to  take  notice  that  the  clumsy  packets  con 
taining  the  newspapers  are  not  folded  by  me,  but  by  a  ser 
vant  under  my  direction.  I  do  this  because  I  would  not  be 
instrumental  in  giving  you  an  awkward  habit,  which,  perhaps, 
my  example  might  induce  you  to  contract.  It  is  as  easy  to 
write  a  neat,  clean  hand,  (and  looking  at  my  lines  you  may 
add  straight,  too,}  and  to  fold  papers  with  exactness  and 
snugness,  as  to  do  both  in  a  slovenly  way.  It  is  even  more 
conveniently  performed,  taking  less  time,  trouble,  and  pa 
per,  as  well  as  occupying  less  space.  For  my  crooked  lines, 
I  must  plead  that  I  write  in  a  crowd,  and  on  a  surface  some 
what  convex.  These  little  circumstances,  as  they  may  ap 
pear  to  be,  are  of  importance  in  life.  Many  a  man's  success 
has  depended  on  the  folding  and  superscription  of  a  letter. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore. 

I  am  your  affectionate,  but  tried,  kinsman, 
•   JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

TRANSLATION  FROM  THE  PERSIAN. — By  Sir  Wm.  Jones. 

u  On  parent's  knees,  a  naked,  new-born  child, 
Weeping  thou  satt'st,  while  all  around  thee smiled! 
So  live,  that  sinking  in  thy  last,  long  sleep, 
Thou  then  may'st  smile,  while  all  around  thee  weep !" 

Show  the  above  to  your  cousin.    My  love  to  Sally, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  67 


LETTER  XLIV. 

Georgetown,  April  10, 1809. 

I  THANK  you,  my  dear  Theodore,  for  your  letter;  but  I 
have  lost,  or,  rather,  mislaid  it  amongst  the  papers  which  are 
scattered  in  confusion  over  my  room;  and,  although  I  have 
searched  diligently  for  nearly  an  hour,  cannot  find  it.  Alas! 
I  am  fast  growing  blind.  You  were  right  in  your  conjec 
ture,  as  to  the  cause  of  my  omitting  to  write  to  you  the  week 
before  last;  and  the  same  might  now  be  urged  with  the  great 
est  propriety. 

A  new  map  of  North  Carolina  has  lately  appeared.  It  is 
said  to  be  very  accurate;  and,  in  point  of  engraving  and  work 
manship,  puts  the  new  map  of  Virginia  to  shame.  It  does 
honour  to  its  editors  Messrs.  Price  &  Strother,  and  the  gen 
tleman  under  whose  patronage  it  has  been  executed — David 
Stone  and  Peter  Brown,  esquires.  If  there  are  any  copies 
for  sale  here,  I  will  bring  one  home  for  Tudor  and  yourself. 
He  is  a  sad  fellow,  for  not  writing  to  me. 

Adieu !  my  dear  Theodore, 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Remember  me  to  the  Doctor  and  lady,  Tom  M.,  and  Ho- 
dijah;  also,  to  Mr.  Dillon. 


68  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  XLV. 

House  of  Representatives,  June  24,  1809. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THE  Orleans  mail  has  just  brought  me  your  letter  of 
the  22d.  I  thank  you  very  sincerely  for  it,  and,  particular 
ly,  for  your  meteorological  observations;  by  which,  I  per 
ceive,  that  the  weather  has  been  with  you  such  as  we  have 
experienced  here — very  wet;  and,  with  the  exception  of  a 
few  days,  very  hot.  My  health,  nevertheless,  has  been  as 
good  as  I  have  enjoyed  for  many  years.  I  believe  that  I 
have  been  too  busy  to  find  time  to  be  sick. 

Your  cousin  Judy  did  very  well  in  recommending  Aiken's 
Letters  to  you.  It  is  an  excellent  book.  I  was  in  hopes 
you  would  have  given  me  some  account  of  the  impression 
made  upon  you  by  Homer.  It  is  more  than  twenty  years 
since  I  read  it,  and  yet  the  impression  is  vivid  on  my  mind. 
Are  you  a  Greek,  or  a  Trojan? 

This  is  the  last  letter  which  you  will  receive  from  me, 
dated  at  this  place.  On  Wednesday  next,  Congress  adjourns. 
I  shall  direct  to  you  at  Roanoke — not  because  I  deem  the 
receipt  of  my  few  hasty  lines  of  very  material  consequence, 
but,  because  I  feel  a  desire  that  }^ou  should  have  some  me 
mento  of  me,  if  it  were  only  the  declaration  of  my  sincere 
love  and  friendship  for  you.  I  am  undecided  whether  I 
shall  go  to  Winchester,  or  not.  You  shall  hear,  however,  by 
the  next  mail. — Farewell,  my  dear  son! 

Your  fond  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

From  Babel:  Saturday,  May  24,  1809:  half  past  three 
o'clock,  P.  M. 

You  are,  probably,  now  on  the  road. — I  pity  you — for  it 
is  oppressively  hot. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  69 

LETTER  XLVI. 

RoanoJce,  Thursday  Night,  Aug.  6,  1810. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  returned  from  Mecklenburg  court,  whi 
ther  I  went  on  Tuesday,  leaving  Echo  confined  here,  as  she 
was  too  much  fatigued  to  travel  so  far.  I  have  just  learned 
that  she  went  off  yesterday  morning  with  the  chain  upon 
her,  and  I  fear  that  the  poor  thing  may  have  got  entangled 
with  it  so  as  to  prevent  her  getting  along;  and,  in  that  condi 
tion,  may  be  exposed  to  perish.  I  cannot  express  how  much 
I  am  distressed  at  this  thought.  I  shall,  therefore,  despatch 
Phil,  in  the  morning  with  this  letter  in  quest  of  her. 

I  fear  that  Johnny  is  very  ill,  from  his  not  having  come 
up.  I  need  not  say  how  much  pleasure  it  would  give  me  to 
see  you  here.  But,  you  appear  to  have  (if  not  a  disinclina 
tion  to  come)  so  decided  a  preference  for  Bizarre,  that  T  did 
not  choose  to  put  any  restraint  upon  your  inclinations.  It 
is  not  strange  that  you  should  prefer  the  society  of  your  sis 
ter  and  cousins  to  that  of  a  morose  old  man  like  myself. 
Phil,  will  return  with  Hyperion.  My  love  to  your  cousin, 
Sally,  and  St.  George. 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  XLVII. 

Roanoke,  Aug.  9, 1810. 

I  THANK  you  very  kindly,  my  dear  Theodore,  for  your 
attention  to  Johnny,  about  whom  I  cannot  help  feeling  some 


70  LETTERS  OF 

uneasiness,  although  I  know  every  care  will  be  taken  of  him. 
You  acted  exactly  as  I  should  have  done,  in  sending  for  Dr, 
Wilson;  and  in  every  other  respect  better  than  I  could  have 
done.  I  am  obliged  to  you,  also,  my  dear  Theodore,  for 
the  intention  with  which  you  sent  up  poor  Echo,  whose  re 
treat  equals  that  of  the  ten  thousand  under  Xenophon,  al 
though  she  is  not  likely  to  have  so  eloquent  an  historian  of 
her  anabasis.* 

I  have  been  very  unwell  ever  since  I  parted  from  you. 
My  journey  to  Mecklenburg  did  me  no  good:  by  the  free 
use  of  diluting,  acidulated  drinks,  I  am  somewhat  better  to 
day — able  to  ride  out.  As  soon  as  I  am  well  enough,  I  shall 
come  down  to  Bizarre. 

In  reply  to  the  supplement  to  your  letter,  I  need  not  say 
that  there  is  no  person  that  I  should  be  more  glad  to  see,  at 
all  times,  in  my  house,  than  yourself;  and  I  believe  there  is 
no  one  in  the  world  that  would  be  happier  to  see  you  (no, 
not  even  your  own  father)  than,  dear  Theodore,  him  who 
feels  like  a  father  towards  you.  God  bless  you,  my  son! 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

MR.  THEO.  B.  DUDLEY. 

I  write  in  the  dark.  Beverley  and  Polly  reciprocate  your 
good  wishes.  St.  George  will  inform  you  of  Tudor's  ex 
ploit,  which  beats  that  of  Xenophon  or  Echo.  I  would  not 
have  made  the  experiment  for  the  Bank  of  Virginia.  My 
best  love  to  your  sister. 

*  The  above  paragraph  refers  to  a  favourite  pointer,  who  had  gone  forty 
miles  with  a  chain  attached  to  her  neck:  the  commencement  alludes  to  a  sick 
servant. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  71 

LETTER  XLVIII. 

Roanoke,  Monday,  Oct.  29,  1810. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  24th  arrived  last  night  by  the 
post.     I  could  have  wished  that  it  had  been  a  little  fuller; 
but,  in  your  hurried  situation,  perhaps  I  ought  not  to  have 
expected  more  than  a  few  lines.    When  you  reach  Philadel 
phia,  I  hope  to  hear  from  you  often;  regularly  and  fully.     I 
am  entittled  to  your  confidence,  my  son,  and  let  me  flatter 
myself  that  I  shall  receive  it.     If,  however,  you  cannot  give 
it,  there  is  no  more  to  be  said;  it  cannot  be  forced:  like 
mercy,  "  its  quality  is  not  strained;"  like  mercy,  too,  "  it  is 
doubly  blessed;"  but,  to  be  itself,  it  must  flow — -freely,  vo 
luntarily:  if  it  do  not,  it  is  not  confidence — but  a  base 
counterfeit;  it  is  sheer  hypocrisy.     It  is  somewhat  unfortu 
nate  for  us  both,  my  dear  Theodore,  that  you  should  have 
passed  so  much  of  your  time  in  a  situation  where  you  were 
exposed  to  the  perils  of  a  "  divided  duty;"  at  least,  accord 
ing  to  your  estimate  of  things.     I  assure  you  that  nothing, 
from  the  commencement  of  the  connexion  between  us,  has 
given  me  so  much  pain,  (growing  out  of  it,)  as  that  you 
should  have  offered  the  request,  or  even  importunity ',  of 
any  person  in  the  world,  as  a  reason  for  departing  from  the 
pointed  injunctions  of  him,  who  flattered  himself  he  had 
more  weight  with  you  than  the  whole  world   besides.     I 
know  nothing  that  I  am  so  anxious  you   should  acquire, 
as  the  faculty  of  saying  no.     You  must  calculate  on  unrea 
sonable  requests  being  preferred  to  you  every  day  of  your 
life,  and  must  endeavour  to  deny  with  as  much  facility  as 
you  acquiesce.     Thus,  when  that  worthless  fellow,  Farmer, 
brought  Hyperion  to  Bizarre,  and  asked  you  to  give  a  re 
ceipt  for  him,  you  ought  to  have  said — "  I  did  not  deliver 
the  horse  to  you,  sir,  and  therefore  cannot  receive  him  back. 
You  had  better  carry  him  to  the  place  and  person  where  and 


72  LETTERS  OF 

from  whom  you  got  him.  At  any  rate,  it  is  no  part  of  my 
duty  to  give  you  a  receipt  for  him,  and  I  cannot  put  my 
name  to  an  important  paper  merely  because  you  ask  it." 
Rely  upon  it,  my  dear  fellow,  there  will  never  be  wanting 
persons  to  ask  your  signature,  provided  it  can  be  had  for  ask 
ing.  It  is  a  dangerous  thing  to  put  one's  name  to  paper; 
even  to  witness  an  instrument  of  writing  may  compel  you 
to  go,  or  subject  you  to  be  dragged  from  Machias  to  St. 
Mary's.  If  you  had  refused  Farmer  a  receipt,  he  must  have 
brought  the  horse  here,  at  his  own  risk  and  charge,  and  it 
would  have  appeared  that  he  was  diseased;  and  I  have  no 
doubt  became  so  in  consequence  of  abuse. 

By  this  time  I  flatter  myself  you  are  safely  lodged  in  one 
of  the  straight  flat  streets  of  our  American  Birmingham.  I 
am  glad  to  hear  that  your  financial  arrangements  are  all  set 
tled  to  your  satisfaction;  although  I  do  not  see  how  you 
could  have  been  liable  to  any  disappointment  in  them.  Let 
me  caution  you  to  direct  the  post-master  not  to  deliver  your 
letters  to  the  penny  post;  but  let  them  lie  in  the  office  until 
called  for  by  yourself,  in  person.  You  did  not  mention  whe 
ther  you  had  met  with  Tom  Murray,  or  not.  Give  my  best 
respects  to  him,  and  to  any  other  young  Virginian  of  merit, 
whom  I  may  know,  at  the  medical  school.  I  hope  you  will 
be  established  at  a  Pension  Francaise,  and  that  you  will 
take  lessons  in  fencing  and  dancing.  I  am  in  no  fear  of 
your  taking  the  French  disease  in  politics  or  morals,  and 
wish  you  to  acquire  a  facility  in  the  language. 

On  Wednesday  I  shot  with  Mr.  Bouldin,  and  I  never  saw 
any  pointer  behave  better  than  Dido,  fetching  the  birds  ex- 
cepted.  I  had  given  her  some  lessons  in  the  dining-room, 
and  one  day's  previous  practice,  by  herself.  She  found  the 
birds  in  the  highest  style — stood  as  stanchly  as  old  .Carlo — 
never  flushed  one,  and  hunted  with  the  most  invincible  re 
solution.  She  followed  the  worm  of  the  fence  through  thick 
briers,  and  put  up,  successively,  in  each  corner,  fifteen  to 
twenty  birds.  1  was  next  the  river;  and,  although  I  could 
see  her,  they  flew  next  the  field,  except  two  that  I  killed. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  73 

She  was  delighted  to  see  them  fall,  and  entered  into  the  spi 
rit  of  the  sport,  fully.  She  stood  at  a  woodcock,  which  I 
killed,  (the  same,  I  believe,  that  escaped  us  on  Friday  or  Sa 
turday,)  and  stood  at  it  after  it  was  killed,  as  she  does  at  the 
dead  partridges.  I  have  unhreeched  my  double-barrelled 
gun,  and  made  a  discovery.  The  antechambers  contain  only 
about  half  the  pipe  of  the  flash  belonging  to  it,  when  re 
duced  to  its  smallest  size;  and  with  that  quantity  (little  more 
than  a  priming)  she  shoots  much  better  at  a  mark,  from  thir 
ty  to  forty  steps,  than  with  the  extended  pipe  full — about 
three  times  the  quantity — which  I  shot  when  we  were  toge 
ther.  You  know,  at  Flat  Lick,  three  years  ago,  Mr.  Wood- 
son  said  that  I  had  not  powder  enough,  when,  in  fact,  I  had 
twice  as  much  as  I  ought  to  have  used.  Our  day's  sport  con 
sisted  of  six  brace  of  partridges,  and  a  woodcock,  killed  by 
J.  R.,  and  one  brace  and  a  hare,  by  Mr.  Bouldin;  besides 
two  squirrels,  shot  flying,  by  J.  R. 

On  Saturday  a  heavy  horse,  newly  shod,  with  Colonel 
Clarke  on  his  back,  set  his  foot  on  mine.  The  three  mid 
dle  toes  of  the  right  foot,  and  the  penultimate,  are  crushed 
almost  to  a  jelly.  That  night,  spasm  ensued;  but,  from 
the  free  use  of  camphor  and  opium,  I  found  relief.  This 
morning,  in  hobbling  from  the  bed  to  the  fire,  I  hurt  it  again, 
and  there  was  a  recurrence  of  cramp,  or  spasm.  It  is  now 
easier,  and,  I  hope,  will  be  well  by  Christmas.  I  will  com 
pound  for  that  time. 

I  heard  from  Bizarre  to-day.  All  there  are  well.  I  shall 
not  be  disappointed  if  a  lady  of  our  acquaintance  should 
give  her  hand  to  some  Calvinistic  parson. 

Beverley  and  Polly  desire  their  best  regards  to  you:  so  do 
Carlo,  Echo,  and  Dido;  and,  also,  little  Dash,  who  arrived 
last  night  in  the  wagon.     Adieu!  dear  Theodore. 
I  am?  most  sincerely  and  affectionately, 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

MR.  THEO.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

10 


74  LETTERS  OF 

Can  you  procure  me  some  extra  long  and  fine  and  thick 
home-manufactured  woollen  stockings?  They  should  be,  at 
least,  three  inches  longer  than  the  ordinary  sized  men's 
stockings,  and  of  the  finest  wool.  The  market  is  a  good 
place  to  buy  them,  and  is  a  curiosity  that  you  should  exa 
mine.  Direct  to  Charlotte,  C.  H.,  "  Roanoke,  near  Char 
lotte,  C.  H.,  Virginia." 


LETTER  XLIX. 

Bizarre,  Friday,  Nov.  16, 1810. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  GOT  here  yesterday  morning,  having  been  compelled 
(not  more  from  fatigue  and  sickness,  than  from  inclination,) 
to  stay  the  preceding  night  with  Mr.  Hoge.  St.  George  and 
Johnny,  who  took  the  other  road,  came  on  that  night.  We 
found  your  sister  and  cousin  in  good  health. 

I  am  in  no  situation  to  write,  but  1  cannot  resist  the  incli 
nation  I  feel  to  say  something  to  you,  as  well  as  to  set  you  a 
good  example;  and  yet,  what  have  I  to  say,  that  has  not  been 
repeated  in  every  possible  form,  until,  at  last,  it  has,  perhaps, 
become  stale  and  nauseous  to  you. 

Shall  I  tell  you  of  my  «  Miseries  of  Human  Life  ?"  Last 
night  I  awaked  shrieking  with  pain.  It  was  spasm,  occasioned 
by  my  wounded  foot.  The  bones  of  the  middle  toe  are 
crushed,  and  the  whole  member  a  mass  of  contusion.  I  fear 
I  shall  have  to  amputate  it  at  last;  (I  mean  the  toe. )  A  large 
dose  of  opium  gave  me  some  unquiet  sleep;  but,  to-day,  I  am 
greatly  disordered.  I  have  a  bad  cold  and  sore  throat;  but 
these  I  do  not  so  much  mind:  my  hip,  and  the  whole  thigh 
and  leg  are,  very  painful.  I  think  it  must  be  sciatic.  The 
pain  extends  along  down  the  inside  of  the  thigh,  crosses  ob- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  75 

liquely  at  the  knee,  so  as  to  affect  rather  the  outer  than  in 
ner  side  of  the  knee,  and  afflicts  me  beyond  expression.  I 
have  felt  nothing  like  it  since  my  confinement  at  Mr.  Key's, 
two  winters  ago. 

You  have  not  mentioned  Messrs.  Innskeep  &  Bradford, 
or  another  commission  which  began  in  Richmond,  and  ended 
in  Georgetown.  Did  you  stay  at  Crawford's?  and  whom  did 
you  see  in  Richmond.  Have  you  received  the  second  $250, 
and  lodged  it  in  the  bank?  I  want  to  know  all  about  you; 
but,  from  your  scanty  letters,  which  look  like  the  forced  pro 
duction  of  an  ungenial  climate,  I  suppose  I  shall  have  to  glean 
my  intelligence  from  others,  at  second  or  third  hand.  I  see 
very  plainly  the  error  into  which  you  have  fallen,  and  you 
will  see  it  too,  (as  I  did  in  my  own  case,)  when  too  late. 
Have  you  read  "  Manoeuvring  "  yet.  I  tell  you,  (you  may 
believe  me  or  not,  just  as  you  please,)  you  are  no  match  for 
female  adroitness  and  artifice,  even  if  not  seconded  by  wit, 
some  beauty,  and  long  practice.  The  love  of  power,  and  of 
admiration,  (and  the  last  is  subordinate  and  instrumental  to 
the  first,)  is  woman's  ruling  passion.  Whatever  be  the  af 
fectation  of  the  day,  it  is  pushed  to  tte  extreme— is  it  timi 
dity?  she  shrinks  from  a  mouse;  i?  it  fortitude?  she  braves 
Heaven,  itself.  Read,  if  you  please,  Dr  Young's  Universal 
Passion;  that,  I  think,  is  the  title  of  nis  satires.  Let  me 
know  how,  and  where,  and  with  v-aomyou  are  lodged;  who 
are  your  companions,  &-  I  am  in  great  pain. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

If  you  make  any  acquaintances,  who  know  me,  tell  me 
who  they  are,  and  their  present  situation  in  the  world. 
When  you  write  to  your  mother,  inquire  if  my  letter  of  last 
winter,  enclosing  Sally's,  reached  her.  I  have  a  particular 
reason  for  wishing  to  know. 


76  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  L. 

Roanoke,  Nov.  15,  1807. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  6th,  arrived  while  I  was  at  Bizarre, 
which  place  I  left  yesterday  morning.  Your  cousin,  howe 
ver,  received  one  from  you  by  the  same  post,  by  which  I  was 
assured  of  your  being  well.  I  am  sorry,  my  son,  that  any 
passage,  in  my  letter  to  you,  should  have  given  you  uneasiness. 
I  look  not  for  professions  from  you.  You  have  never  given 
into  them,  and  I  have  always  respected  you  the  more  for  it. 
For,  as  Sir  Peter  Teazle  says,  "  damn  sentiment. "  I  have 
been  made  the  victim  of  it.  But  I  owe  it  to  you,  and  to  my 
self,  to  explain  the  cause  which  led  to  the  expression,  by  which 
you  felt  youtself  hurt,  and  which,  therefore,  I  regret  to  have 
used. 

My  situation  has  been,  for  some  time  past,  (as  you  know,) 
a  peculiar  one.  The  persons  (yourself  excepted)  from  whom 
1  had  deserved  most  Whly ;  to  whom  I  had  dedicated  the 
best  years  of  my  life,  had  withdrawn  their  confidence  from 
me.  To  one  of  these  I  hao,  devoted  the  prime  of  my  man 
hood  ;  another,  (I  blus^  to  tell  it!)  I  loved  better  than  my  own 
soul,  or  Him  who  created  U  !  WUt  I  merited  from  the.third, 
I  will  not  say.  Two  of  them  had  descended  to  speak  injuri 
ously,  and  even  falsely,  (as  it  rejected  one  of  those  two,)  con 
cerning  me.  My  heart  was  wounded  to  the  very  core. 
Those  persons  have  since  confessed  that  they  were  under  the 
influence  of  paltry  irritations,  and  that,  in  their  dispassionate 
moments,  they  never  felt  or  expressed  a  thought  that  was  in 
jurious  to  me.  An  instance,  however,  of  disingenuousness 
and  want  of  confidence,  the  most  inexcusable,  had  lately  oc 
curred  in  one  of  them,  or,  rather,  the  knowledge  of  it  oc 
curred  to  me,  for  the  matter  was  of  some  years'  standing.  At 
this  juncture,  I  received  your  scanty  and  meagre  letter  from 
Richmond.  I  attributed  its  form  to  the  pressure  of  time,  un- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  77 

til  I  learned,  the  day  following,  that  you  had  written  more 
fully  to  another.  I  know  that  you  are  under  some  obligations 
to  that  person,  (not  that  they  are  not  reciprocal,  for  you  have 
made  ample  returns,)  and  I  applaud  your  independence  in 
showing  it,  as  well  as  the  sentiment  which  makes  you  feel  it. 
But,  nevertheless,  I  was  hurt.  I  know  that  the  only  way  to 
deserve  the  confidence  of  another,  is  to  give  our  own ;  although 
that  does  not  always  obtain  it.  It  was  because  I  had  given 
you  mine,  and  upon  no  other  score  that  I  felt  I  had  a  right  to 
challenge  yours.  To  you  I  had  had  no  reserve,  and  I  looked 
not  merely  for  the  disclosure  of  any  matter  of  consequence, 
in  case  you  had  any  such  to  impart,  but  for  a  frank  commu 
nication  of  your  opinions  and  feelings  generally.  I  knew  that 
young  persons  sometimes  distrusted  old  ones,  and  I  feared  it 
might  be  your  case  towards  me.  I  felt  unhappy,  and,  perhaps, 
was  unreasonable.  I  need  say  no  more  on  this  subject. 

I  hope  you  will  make  all  your  notes  of  lectures,  &c.,  in 
blank  books,  and  keep  a  separate  one  for  observations,  such  as 
occur  to  you.  I  advise  a  journal.  "  One  word  written  on 
the  spot ,"  (as  when  you  go  to  see  any  thing  worthy  of  curiosi 
ty,  or  make  remarks  upon  the  city)  is  worth  a  volume  of  re 
collections."  I  recommend  you  to  the  Genius  of  Hipocrates, 
(not  "  Hi/pecrates,")  and  earnestly  recommend  an  attention  to 
Dr.  Physick's  course.  Do  not  fail  to  supply  yourself  with  a 
good  collection  of  medical  books.  Spare  not  on  account  of 
expense :  to  these,  by  next  winter,  you  can  add  surgical  in 
struments,  electrical  machine,  &c.  I  should  be  vexed  if  you 
suffered  false  economy  to  interfere  in  a  case  like  this.  Let 
your  dress,  also,  without  being  foolishly  expensive,  be  that  of 
a  gentleman.  I  need  not  tell  you  who  lived  at  Bizarre  to  be 
neat.  If  your  teeth  require  it,  have  them  cleaned  and 
plugged  by  a  dentist.  It  is  an  operation  that,  I  think,  ought 
to  be  performed  (cleaning)  once  or  twice  a  year. 

I  hope  you  will  learn  to  fence,  and  to  dance,  also ;  and  I  am 
very  anxious  that  you  should  speak  French,  and  read  Italian, 
Spanish,  and  German :  "  As  many  languages  as  a  man  knows, 


78  LETTERS  OF 

so  many  times  is  he  a  man."    If  you  wish  it,  1  will  send  you 
Dufief. 

Where  do  you  lodge  ?  Have  you  made  any  acquaintances 
yet  ?  It  may  be  worth  while  to  attend  to  the  police  of  the 
city,  the  watch,  jail,  water-works,  market,  scavengers,  &c. 
I  would  see  a  ship  launch  when  practicable.  The  hospitals, 
of  course,  you  will  be  acquainted  with  :  that  of  Pennsylvania 
is  an  honour  to  the  state. 

I  am  obliged  to  conclude. 

Yours,  in  haste, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Tudor  desires  to  be  remembered  to  you.  Your  sister  was 
well  yesterday ;  so  were  your  cousin  and  St.  George. 


LETTER  LI. 

Roanoke,  Nov.  30,  1810. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WAS  obliged  to  conclude  my  last  letter  very  abrupt 
ly,  as  there  was  a  pressing  necessity  for  Johnny's  setting  off 
to  Richmond  the  instant  he  could  get  ready;  bitter  as  the 
weather  was;  and  such  I  never  knew  at  the  same  season.  It 
has  proved  very  hard  upon  me,  hand  and  foot;  the  rheuma 
tism  having  settled  in  the  first  wounded  limb,  and  the  nail 
of  the  other  being  in  the  act  of  shedding:  but,  Graces  & 
Dieu,  I  make  a  shift  to  get  along  without  quite  as  many 
heart-aches  as  I  have  been  made  to  feel  by  female  caprice 
and  affectation. 

You  say  nothing  in  your  letters  of  the  places  you  passed 
through.     Did  you  go  through  Georgetown?     How  did  you 

• 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  79 

like  the  City,  and  Baltimore?  The  sight  of  the  Chesapeake 
must  have  been  a  great  treat  to  you.  It  is  a  magnificent  body 
of  water,  and  the  passage  from  Newcastle  to  Philadelphia  a 
most  pleasing  novelty.  I  do  not  like  your  indifference  to 
the  scenes  around  you:  at  your  age,  it  is  not  natural,  un 
less  the  heart  be  sad,  or  melancholy:  for  which  you  have, 
I  trust,  no  cause  as  yet.  What  acquaintances  have  you 
made,  and  how  do  you  pass  your  evenings?  Do  you  go  to 
the  theatre,  and  what  is  the  style  of  performance?  Have 
you  secured  your  money,  and  in  what  bank?  and  how  much 
more  will  you  want?  I  should  have  given  you  a  letter  to 
Mr.  Clay,  but,  he  is  three,  in  my  debt:  although  the  first 
of  them  demanded  an  immediate  answer,  and  the  other  two 
entreated  him  to  furnish  it.  Under  such  circumstances,  I 
would  not  write  even  to  him. 

What  say  Bradford  &  Innskeep  about  the  review.  Let 
me  advise  you,  now  and  then,  on  a  leisure  day,  to  take  a 
saddle-horse  from  one  of  the  livery-stables,  and  explore  the 
surrounding  country.  Lansdowne  is  well  worth  seeing — so 
is  The  Woodlands,  Mr.  Hamilton's  place;  if  you  can  obtain 
an  introduction,  which  I  hope  you  will  do  through  my  friend, 
Doctor  Logan,  who,  I  see,  has  returned  from  Europe.  He 
resides  at  Staunton,  near  Germantown,  and  is,  unquestionably, 
a  true  patriot.  His  family  is  ancient  and  respectable,  and 
his  own  private  character,  highly  so.  Between  the  upper 
ferry,  and  the  falls  of  Schuylkill,  was  my  most  usual  shooting 
ground;  but  both  banks,  as  low  as  Hamburg  House,  are  quite 
familiar  to  me.  I  had  like  to  have  forgotten  to  tell  you,  that, 
at  a  Mr.  Bartram's,  not  far  below  Gray's  ferry,  on  the  left 
of  the  road-side,  you  will  find  many  rare  and  beautiful  trees, 
and  shrubs,  particularly  some  scarce  varieties  of  the  pinus 
tribe. 

Yesterday,  just  at  the  south-east  corner  of  my  pasture 
fence,  I  came  upon  a  fine  flock  of  turkeys.  They  were 
going  from  the  ditch,  towards  the  river.  I  fired,  and  so  did 
Tudor,  but  our  shot  (No.  9,)  were  too  small,  and  the  tur 
keys  flew  over  the  river.  Woodcocks  are  now  pretty  plea- 


80  LETTERS  OF 

tiful  in  the  slash,  at  the  Middle  Quarter,  near  the  lower  big 
spring:  but  I  made  a  bungling  hand  yesterday  of  killing  them, 
having  got  only  one  at  four  shots.  On  Sunday  I  bagged  five 
and  a  half  brace  of  partridge — and  lost  four.  Tudor  bagged 
one  and  a  half. 

The  rain  prevented  my  setting  out  for  Bizarre  this  morn 
ing.  Beverley  and  his  wife  desire  to  be  remembered  kindly 
to  you,  as  I  do  to  my  old  friend  Tom.  She  is  a  good  crea 
ture  as  ever  breathed;  knows  nothing  of  megrims,  hartshorn, 
spirits  of  lavender,  laudanum,  nor  Jits.  By  the  way,  I  mean 
to  take  out  a  patent  for  curing  the  last:  although  they  be  the 
"  true  genuine  convulsion  fits,  to  be  had  only  of  the  maker." 

Adieu,  dear  Theodore. 

I  am,  and  ever  shall  be, 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

I  do  not  like  to  hear  you  talk  of  your  temperament  being 
sanguineo  melancholic.  You  have  lived  too  much  in  the 
Cave  of  Spleen,  and  I  must  prescribe  for  you  "Pope's  Rape 
of  the  Lock,"  to  be  taken  at  once,  after  a  cheerful  walk,  or 
ride.  I  am  glad  you  have  Tom.  Murray  for  a  room-mate. 
I  shall  send  you  a.  letter  of  introduction  to  Dr.  L.,  as  soon 
as  I  can  procure  Jit  paper.  Have  you  made  any  acquain 
tances,  and  who  are  they?  What  is  your  street,  and  num 
ber?  I  direct  to  the  post-office,  having  found  the  penny 
post  not  always  punctual,  and  it  will  give  you  exercise.  I 
am  glad  that  the  professors  mean  to  be  rigid  in  their  exami 
nations,  and  shall  disregard  the  expense  of  three  courses  at 
the  university,  provided  you  profit  by  them.  You  may, 
thereby,  acquire  a  knowledge  of  mathematics  and  natural 
philosophy,  which  branches  have  been  neglected  in  your 
education;  and  also,  of  languages.  Send  me  a  catalogue  of 
Bradford's  books.  Ask,  at  a  respectable  jeweller's,  the  price 
of  sterling  plate  per  ounce,  plain,  such  as  spoons,  tankards, 
goblets,  and  ladles.  Direct  to  Georgetown)  Columbia. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  81 

I  brought  the  above  letter  with  me  from  Roanoke,  on  Sa 
turday  last;  you  will  receive  a  reply  to  yours  of  the  ninth  of 
last  month,  by  this  post. 

Thursday  Night,  Dec.  4,  1810. 


LETTER  LIL 

Roanoke,  Dec.  18,  1810. 

Tuesday. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

IT  has  not  been  in  my  power  to  answer  your  letter  of 
the  2d,  by  return  of  post.  I  was  worn  out  with  fatigue,  and 
benumbed  with  cold,  (having  been  the  whole  day  survey 
ing,)  when  I  received  it. 

I  am  sorry  that  your  inmates  are  Virginians.  You  will 
lose  one  of  the  great  advantages  of  travel,  by  associating 
only  with  people  the  "  accent  of  whose  minds,  as  well  as 
tongues,"  are  like  your  own.  Endeavour  to  associate  with 
young  men  from  the  other  states  from  whom  you  may  learn 
something,  and  they  also  from  you.  Your  money  will  not 
be  sufficient,  and  I  shall  send  you  a  farther  supply.  Do  not, 
my  dear  boy,  attempt  too  much  at  once:  festina  tente.  If 
you  have  not  time  for  fencing,  discharge  your  master — after 
the  quarter  shall  expire.  Your  object  is  not  to  become  a  gla 
diator,  but  to  learn  the  use  of  arms — and  that  a  few  lessons 
will  teach  you;  practice  must  do  the  rest.  I  would,  also, 
advise  laying  aside  the  clarionet  pro  tern.  You  have,  I  be 
lieve,  a  turn  for  music,  and  it  is  an  art  that  I  would  wish 
you  to  excel  in,  if  possible;  but  any  thing  short  of  excel 
lence  (especially  on  the  clarionet  or  violin)  is  execrable. — 
There  are  squabbles  and  intrigues  in  the  College  of  which 
you  ought  to  keep  clear.  Barton  and  Rush  are  at  war.  The 

11 


82  LETTERS  OF 

fact  is,  that  Barton's  (on  Materia  Medico]  is  one  of  the 
most  useful  and  instructive  courses;  Wistar's  is  indispensa 
ble — so  is  Coxe's  (if  he  be.  a  chemist)  and  Physick's.  The 
rest  are  catch-pennies,  and  teach  nothing  that  cannot  be  bet 
ter  learned  without  lecturing.  He  who  has  access  to  the 
best  authors,  and,  particularly,  to  the  latest  periodical  publi 
cations  on  medicine,  knows  all  that  Rush,  &c.,  can  teach, 
without  being  frozen  to  death,  or  stifled  in  a  human  bath, 
in  a  lecture  room:  but  then  there  would  be  no  jobs  for  pro 
fessors.  The  "graduation''  is  of  the  same  stamp. 

I  thank  you,  my  dear  Theodore,  for  your  kind  wishes 
about  my  health.  My  hand  is  nearly  well — to  appearance; 
but  subject  to  severe  rheumatic  affection,  particularly  on  ex 
posure  to  cold:  neither  have  I  any  strength  in  it.  Its  pow 
ers  cease  on  a  sudden,  and  things,  which  from  habit  I  take 
in  my  right  hand,  involuntarily  drop  from  it. 

This  is  probably  the  last  letter  you  will  receive  from  me 
until  I  reach  Washington.     Tudor  and  Carter  Coupland  are 
here — both  well;  and  desire  to  be  remembered  to  you.    Car 
ter  sends  his  love  to  his  brother.     Remember  me  to  Tom. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

Your  sister  was  well  on  Saturday,  the  15th.  Have  you 
read  "Manoeuvring?"  Why  buy  two  copies  of  Mitford  ? 
If  you  buy  what  you  have  no  use  for,  you  always  pay  dearly, 
be  the  price  what  it  may.  Do  not  attend  auctions:  they  are 
bad  schools,  and  worthless  commodities  are  palmed  off  upon 
the  unwary.  Go,  with  Dr.  Johnson,  to  "a  stately  shop." 
Cannot  Innskeep  &  Bradford  furnish  me  with  the  remaining 
numbers  of  the  Edinburgh  Review,  bound. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  83 

LETTER  LIIL 

Roanoke,  Dec.  24,  1810. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

You  receive  another  letter  from  Roanoke,  which  I 
can  now  confidently  say  will  be  the  last  this  winter  from  the 
same  place:  not  that  I  have  any  thing  to  say,  except  to  ex 
press  my  anxiety  to  have  you  again  with  me.  You  know 
not,  my  son,  how  dear  you  are,  and  how  justly  dear,  to  me. 
The  only  instances  (and  they  are  hut  two)  in  which  I  have 
thought  of  you  with  disapprobation,  have  been  produced  by 
persons  far  deeper  than  either  of  us  in  the  art  of  stage  ef 
fect. 

Put  me  in  mind,  and  I  will  explain  this  allusion  to  you 
when  we  meet:  mean  while,  may  God  bless  you. 
Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Your  sister  was  well  on  Friday,  the  21st. 


LETTER  LIV. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  4,  1811. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

IN  consequence  of  what  Lord  Chatham  would  style 
a  "  parliamentary  debauch,"  I  am  laid  up  with  sciatic,  lum 
bago,  and  a  defluxion  on  my  head,  that  hardly  permit  me  to 
write.  I  have  received  from  your  good  sister  Fanny,  a  let 
ter  of  the  most  grateful  kind  to  my  feelings.  When  you 
write  to  her,  assure  her  that  I  put  a  proper  value  upon  the 


84  LETTERS  OF 

approbation  of  so  good  a  heart  as  I  have  every  reason  to  be 
lieve  hers  to  be.  I  shall  write  to  her  myself,  as  soon  as  I 
am  able.  Pray  let  me  know  how  your  finances  stand  affect 
ed,  as  I  wish  to  transmit  you  a  draft  on  the  Bank  of  the 
United  States,  when  I  get  abroad  again.  I  write  in  extreme 
pain:  my  breast,  within  the  last  two  minutes,  having  been 
greatly  affected. 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  LV. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  23,  1811. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  AM  extremely  concerned  to  learn  that  you  are  so  se 
riously  unwell.  Take  care  of  yourself,  I  pray.  My  own 
health  is  far  from  being  good,  and  I  fear  that  my  spirits  are 
yet  worse.  I  enclosed  your  letter  to  your  sister  as  soon  as 
I  received  it. 

As  there  is  little  probability  of  the  navigation  being  open 
by  that  time,  I  would  suggest  whether,  when  you  leave  Phi 
ladelphia,  it  would  not  be  more  advisable  to  come  by  the  way 
of  Lancaster  and  York,  to  Baltimore:  the  distance  is  about 
thirty  miles  farther,  but  the  time  nearly  the  same;  and  you 
will  have  the  advantage  of  seeing  a  new  and  more  interesting 
country. 

God  bless  you,  my  dear  boy.  I  am,  with  the  sincerest  re 
gard, 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Remember  me  kindly  to  Tom  Murray. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  85 

I  have  heard  from  Dr.  L.,  in  answer  to  my  last,  enclosed 
to  you. 


LETTER  LVI. 

Washington,  Wednesday,  Feb.  27,  1811. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THE  house  sat  last  night  until  a  very  late  hour.  Some 
gentlemen — a  party  of  medical  students,  I  presume — during 
my  absence,  called  at  the  Union  tavern,  on  their  way  to  Alex 
andria,  and  informed  my  servant  that  they  had  left  you  very 
ill  in  Philadelphia,  on  Sunday  morning.  I  hope,  my  son,  that 
it  may  be  an  exaggeration  of  the  information  contained  in 
your  last  letter.  But  should  this,  unhappily,  not  be  the  case,  I 
beg  that  you  will  employ  the  pen  of  our  friend  Thomas  Mur 
ray,  to  let  me  know  your  real  situation. 
Your  anxious  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
Mr.  THEO.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  LVII. 

Dr.  Brockenbrough's,  Richmond, 

March  16,  1811. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  REACHED  this  place  on  Thursday  evening,  (the  14th,) 
after  a  fatiguing  ride,  from  the   unseasonable   heat  of  the 


86  LETTERS  OF 

weather.  On  the  water  it  must  have  been  delightful,  and, 
no  doubt,  you  had  a  pleasant  passage  back  to  Philadelphia;  for 
there  has  been  a  succession  of  fine  warm  days,  ever  since  we 
parted  in  Baltimore.  I  write,  not  so  much  because  I  have 
any  thing  interesting  to  communicate,  as  because  I  flatter  my 
self  my  movements  are  not  entirely  indifferent  to  you.  I 
hope,  as  soon  as  you  get  resettled,  you  will  give  me  a  full 
account  of  your  situation;  not  forgetting  your  number,  as  well 
as  street,  and  the  manner  in  which  you  pass  your  time.  I 
was  overtaken,  at  the  White  Chimnies,  by  Mr.  Morton  and 
Mr.  Allen  of  Prince  Edward;  who,  I  presume,  have  gone  on. 
Pray  call  on  Mr.  Clay,  and  present  him  my  cordial  respects. 
Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Remember  me  kindly  to  Tom  Murray. 


LETTER  LVIII. 

Blake  Woodsorfs,  April  11, 1811. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

BY  mere  accident,  I  obtained  your  letter  of  the  29th 
of  March,  from  the  Farmville  post-office,  on  Sunday  last,  (the 
7th.)  I  arrived  at  Mr.  Dillon's  the  day  before,  on  my  way 
to  Buckingham  court — Mrs.  Randolph  being  gone  to  Clifton, 
and  St.  George,  unknown  to  me,  to  Roanoke.  He  accom 
panied  his  mother  to  Mr.  Harrison's;  returned,  and  went  up, 
on  Sunday  morning.  Sally  divides  her  time  between  Mr. 
Dillon's  and  Major  Morton's  families.  I  called  yesterday,  at 
the  latter  place,  on  my  way  from  Buckingham  court,  to  see 
her,  and  am  sorry  to  tell  you  that  I  found  her  very  unwell, 
having  been  seized  with  a  sick  stomach  and  fever  the  day  be- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  87 

fore.  It  appears  to  me  to  be  a  slight  case  of  bilious  affection, 
and  you  may  rest  assured  that  every  thing  that  kindness  and 
good  nursing  can  effect  for  her,  is,  and  will  be  done.  My 
engagement  here  obliged  me  to  leave  her,  but  I  am  just  going 
to  see  her  this  morning. 

Mr.  Eppes  obtained  a  majority  of  one  vote  over  me  at 
Buckingham.  This  was  owing  to  my  visit  to  Baltimore,  in 
the  first  instance;  but,  principally,  to  the  activity  of  the  three 
candidates,  who  were  all  opposed  to  me,  as  well  as  the  return 
ing  officer.  There  were  also  a  great  many  bad  votes,  and  a 
very  thin  election:  the  votes  being, for  E.  199,  R.  198.  The 
polls  were  closed  by  half  past  three,  at  the  very  nick  of  time  for 
my  adversaries,  the  votes  of  the  candidates  and  clerks  putting 
him,  for  the  first  time,  a-head.  The  mail,  on  Saturday  night, 
was  loaded  with  hand-bills,  containing  the  most  infamous  li 
bels  against  me. 

Present  me,  very  respectfully,  to  Capt.  Murray  and  Mrs. 
Rush.  She  is  a  fine  woman,  whom  I  very  much  admired 
when  she  was  Miss  Murray.  My  best  regards  to  Mr.  Clay, 
and  give  him  all  the  intelligence  respecting  the  election  that 
this  letter  contains.  I  will  write  again  soon,  when  I  have 
more  leisure,  and  better  implements. 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

P.  S.— In  1809,  the  vote  of  Buckingham  was  for  R.  379; 
Baker,  197. 


88  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LIX. 

Roanoke,  July  7,  1811. 

Sunday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  truly  welcome  letter  arrived  just  as  I  was  sit 
ting  down  to  dinner.  I  know  not  when  I  have  experienced 
more  heartfelt  pleasure  than  the  perusal  of  it  afforded 
me.  The  expression  of  your  grateful  affection  is  the  most 
acceptable  offering  that  could  have  been  presented  to  my 
heart;  nor  would  I  exchange  it,  my  son,  for  the  applause  of 
the  million.  Be  assured,  my  dear  boy,  that  I  find  in  your 
friendship,  and  in  your  worth,  ample  compensation  for  the 
services  that  I  may  have  had  it  in  my  power  to  render  you. 
Like  yourself,  "  I  have  always  considered  them  as  a  matter 
of  course,  because  I  have  thought  of  you  as  of  a  "  son.  Let 
me  entreat  you,  therefore,  not  to  purchase  at  too  dear  a 
price,  to  us  bothy  the  acquisition  of  professional  knowledge. 
How  I  wish  you  were  with  me;  or  that  you  had  one  of  my 
numerous  idle  horses  to  exercise  upon.  This  spot  is,  I  be 
lieve,  very  healthy,  and  the  water  remarkably  fine  and  plen 
tiful:  our  well  having  returned  to  its  allegiance.  I  find  my 
self  better  here  than  any  where  else.  I  returned  yesterday 
from  an  excursion  to  Halifax,  where  the  4th  of  July  was 
celebrated  without  toasts,  and  no  man  got  "  patriotically 
drunk,"  like  the  upholsterer  in  the  play,  "for  the  good  of 
his  country." 

I  am  very  much  disappointed  that  you  have  not  received 
the  remittance  I  spoke  of  through  Mr.  R.  I  will  ride  out 
to-morrow,  and  try  and  procure  you  some  money,  noting 
the  amount  at  the  foot  of  this  letter.  Should  I  fail,  which 
I  think  very  improbable,  show  this  letter  to  Mr.  Clay,  who 
will  advance  you  one  hundred  and  fifty  dollars  for  me  for 
ten  days.  Pray  ask  him  to  write  to  me  immediately,  and 
let  me  know  his  opinion  of  the  late  disclosure  of  the  ex- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  89 

secretary  of  state.     Like  yourself,  I  fancy  many  others  be 
gin  to  apply  the  proverb. 

Enclosed  is  a  letter  which  I  must  beg  you  to  present,  in 
person,  if  Mr.  W.  be  in  Philadelphia.  I  hope  you  will  not 
give  up  your  jaunt  into  the  country.  Take  care  of  your 
health,  I  beseech  you,  and  be  particular  in  every  letter  in 
your  account  of  it. 

Have  you  seen  my  picture  of  Mr.  Clay?  Is  it  a  good 
likeness?  I  found  St.  George  and  Tudor  both  here  on  my 
return  from  Halifax.  They  are  a  great  solace  to  me  in  my 
solitary  condition,  and  both  desire  their  best  love  to  you. 
Their  inquiries  after  your  health  were  anxious  and  pressing. 
St.  George  left  your  sister  and  cousin  well  on  Thursday,  the 
4th.  Mrs.  Hackley  was  at  Bizarre.  Poor  Mr.  Dillon  has 
been  very  ill.  Farewell,  until  to-morrow. 
I  am,  dearest  Theodore, 

Your  truly  affectionate  friend  and  uncle, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

I  am  much  better  to-night.  Yesterday  was  seriously  ill; 
hardly  able  to  sit  on  my  horse  as  I  came  home. 

Bank  of  Virginia,  $100;  No.  6.  B.  to  Robert  Bache; 
2d  Jan.  1810.— Same  Bank,  $50;  D.  No.  1309.  to  Roger 
Nelson;  13th  Dec.  1809. 

Notes  of  the  above  description  are  enclosed  within. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
Monday  Morning. 


12 


90  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LX. 

Monday,  Roanoke,  July  15,  1811. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

ON  my  return  from  Halifax  last  night,  on  a  visit  with 
Mr.  Watldns  Leigh  to  his  brother  William,  I  found  your 
letter  of  the  7th.  By  this  time,  I  trust,  you  are  released 
from  the  heat,  and  dust,  and  filth  of  Philadelphia,  and  are 
enjoying  in  one  of  the  villages  of  New  Jersey,  the  last  fa 
vourable  change  in  the  weather.  By  the  last  post,  I  enclosed 
you  $150,  in  two  Virginia  Bank  notes:  (namely,  $100,  No.  6; 
B.,  payable  to  Robert  Bache,  2d  January,  1810.  $50,  D. 
No.  1309,  Roger  Nelson,  13th  December,  1809;)  which,  I 
hope,  came  safely  to  hand.  I  enclosed,  also,  to  your  care, 
a  letter  to  Mr.  Robert  Walsh,  which,  I  hope,  you  will  de 
liver  by  your  own  hand. 

The  weather  here  has  been  oppressively  hot,  until  Wednes 
day  last — much  less  so,  however,  than  with  you.  I  have 
not  noticed  the  thermometer  higher  than  eighty-seven  and  a 
half  degrees,  although  I  am  persuaded  it  has  been  above  that 
point.  I  went  from  home,  sick,  and  I  have  returned  worse. 
Last  night  I  ventured  on  twelve  grains  of  calomel,  per  se, 
and  a  miserable  night  I  have  had  of  it.  I  have  got  rid,  how 
ever,  of  much  bile;  and,  probably,  escaped  cholera,  or  jaun 
dice.  I  had  symptoms  of  both:  great  nausea,  and  yellow 
tinge  of  the  eye  and  skin.  I  have  exposed  myself,  without 
reserve  to  the  sun  and  dews  in  the  low  grounds,  since  the 
beginning  of  summer.  St.  George  returned  to  Bizarre,  on 
Wednesday.  Tudor  went  down,  also,  a  day  or  two  after 
wards.  Mr.  L.  has  gone  to  Lexington,  Staunton,  &c.  I  am 
quite  alone,  Beverley  not  having  returned  from  Staunton. 
Indeed,  when  he  is  here,  I  have  nothing  of  his  company, 
unless  at  meals,  and  not  always  then;  so  that  I  am  less  sensi 
ble  of  solitude  now,  than  I  shall  be  on  his  return. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  91 

I  shall  direct  this  letter  to  Mr.  Clay,  to  whom  present  my 
warmest  regards. 

Yours,  in  sickness  and  in  health, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

I  see  by  the  papers,  eight  deaths  in  one  week  from  cold 
water,  in  Philadelphia  alone. 

My  respectful  compliments  to  Mrs.  Rush,  Mr.  Croskey, 
and  Mr.  Clay.  Shake  Randolph  by  the  hand  for  me.  Put 
Mr.  Clay  in  mind  of  his  intention  to  write  to  me.  I  wish 
you  had  called  on  Mr.  Cooper. 


LETTER  LXI. 

Roanoke,  July  18,  1811. 

Thursday. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  you  a  few  lines  on  Monday,  when  I  was 
greatly  disordered.  Thank  Heaven,  I  .am  now  somewhat 
better,  although  still  discomposed.  Tudor  came  up,  last  night, 
from  Bizarre;  he  left  your  sister  very  well,  but  he  says  his 
mother  is  complaining.  He  will  go  to  school  to-day,  and  I 
shall  revert  back  to  my  solitary  state.  You  sometimes  com 
plain  of  want  of  matter  for  a  letter,  and  yet  you  mentioned 
but  a  word  of  Cooke  and  Cooper;  and  that  not  until  I  had 
questioned  you  about  them:  this  is  almost  vexatious;  espe 
cially  to  me,  who  consider  it  as  one  of  the  great  privations  of 
my  life,  the  not  having  seen  Cooke.  With  such  various  no 
velties  around  you,  I  cannot  see  how  you  find  any  difficulty 
in  filling  a  sheet 

I  cannot  sufficiently  thank  my  good  friend  Clay  for  his 


92  LETTERS  OF 

kind  attentions  to  you.  You,  however,  will  not  fail  to  de 
monstrate  to  him  and  his  whole  family,  your  sense  of  their 
kindness  towards  you;  for,  I  am  sure,  you  are  the  last  person 
in  the  world,  who  would  prove  insensible  to  such  good 
offices.  Commend  me,  heartily,  to  Mrs.  Clay,  Mr.  Croskey, 
my  name-sake,  and  Mrs.  Rush;  and,  I  pray  you,  be  less  caus 
tic  in  your  future  communications. 

Entirely  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Query — What  is  a  "full  new-moon?" 
(( Inexpressible." 

"Torpowr."  This  word  has  not,  like  honour,  &c.,  been 
derived  to  us  through  the  French.  Indeed,  it  is  yet  Latin. 
"From  there" — from  thence. 


LETTER  LXIL 

Roanoke,  Sunday  Afternoon,  July  21,  1811. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  SCRIBBLED  a  few  lines  on  Thursday  last.  To-day, 
I  am  greeted  by  your  welcome  letter  of  the  14th,  (this  day 
week,)  informing  me  of  the  safe  receipt  of  my  last  remittance; 
but  I  have  no  letter  from  Mr.  Clay.  I  am,  however,  well 
pleased  that  he  amply  overpays  me,  in  his  attentions  to  you, 
for  his  neglect  of  myself.  I  need  not  enjoin  upon  you  to  cul 
tivate  his  valuable  friendship.  It  is  a  source  of  the  truest  en 
joyment  to  me,  that  you  find  in  him  all  that  I  had  flattered 
myself  he  would  prove  to  you;  more  he  could  not  be.  Why, 
my  dear  son,  did  you  suffer  Dr.  B.  to  pass  you?  You  ought 
to  have  made  up  to  him  and  Mrs.  B.,  who  could  not  have  ex 
pected  to  meet  with  you,  and,  therefore,  did  not  observe  you. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  93 

Do  you  not  know  that  they  are  two  of  the  best  friends  that  I 
have  in  the  world,  and,  therefore,  friends  of  yours  ?  They 
will  be  mortified  when  they  learn  how  they  missed  of  you. 
I  am  rejoiced  to  perceive  that,  although  still  languid,  you 
are  visibly  better  than  when  your  penultimate  letter  was  de 
spatched:  go  on,  and  improve  in  health;  in  every  thing  else 
you  are  what  I  wish  you  to  be — except  a  little  defect,  of  ab 
sence,  or  inattention.  When  you  write,  look  over  my  let 
ters  and  answer  them,  instead  of  omitting,  sometimes,  topics 
that  are  interesting  to  me.  I  am  glad  to  tell  you  that  (two 
sleepless  nights,  notwithstanding,)  I  am  generally  amended  in 
health  since  this  day  week.  I  shall  begin  with  Dr.  Rush 
to  extol  calomel  as  the  "Samson  of  Medicine!"  I  was 
obliged,  however,  to  resume  my  flannels. 

The  four  last  days  have  been  very  sultry,  and  attended 
with  heavy  rains,  to  the  very  material  injury  of  my  crop  of 
tobacco.  I  shall  lose  one-half  of  it,  and  the  remainder  great 
ly  damaged.  I  hope  you  will  not  be  in  fault  if  you  are  not 
well  acquainted  with  Mr.  W .  He  is  a  literary  charac 
ter — rare,  even  in  your  quarter  of  the  United  States.  I  have 
a  letter  from  Mr.  Dillon.  He  has  been  very  ill;  taken  in  Pe 
tersburg,  where  Dr.  R.,  probably,  saved  his  life. 

I  expect  Mr.  Macon  and  Mr.  R.  Jones  here  in  the  course 
of  this  week. 

Yours,  entirely, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

The  wet  weather  has  destroyed  many  broods  of  young  par 
tridges.  Can  you  get  any  of  Pigon  &  Andrews,  in  Philadel 
phia. 

Thermometer  at  84°,  3  o'clock,  P.  M. 

Messrs.  Wm.  Watkins,  Bouldin,  and  Beverley,  (who  re 
turned  on  Friday  evening,)  have  just  set  out  for  Halifax 
Court.  Tom  Murray  (I  hear)  is  about  to  settle  in  Campbell. 

My  best  regards  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Clay,  and  Mr.  Croskey. 
Love  to  godson  Randolph,  and  respectful  compliments  to 
Mrs.  Rush,  She  is,  indeed,  a  fine  woman;  one  for  whom  I 


94  LETTERS  OF 

have  felt  a  true  regard,  unmixed  with  the  foible  of  another 
passion.  Fortunately,  or  unfortunately  for  me,  when  I  knew 
her,  "  I  bore  a  charmed  heart/7  Nothing  else  could  have 
preserved  me  from  the/w//  force  of  her  attractions.  I  want 
to  hear  more  of  the  picture,  (Mr.  Clay's,)  and  I  want  to 
see  it. 

No  prospect  of  fair  weather.  Where  are  the  Yellow 
Springs?  Are  they  those  mentioned  in  the  port-folio? 

Monday  Morning,  22d. 

Since  I  wrote  yesterday  evening,  we  have  had  a  great  fall 
of  rain.  The  weather  continues  cloudy,  and  the  atmosphere 
we  breathe  seems  to  be  water  itself — at  least,  vapour.  I  must 
ascribe  much  of  my  relief  to  the  resumption  of  flannels,  which 
I  put  on  in  the  night  of  the  14th,  (Sunday,)  just  as  the  calo 
mel  was  beginning  to  operate.  I  had  lain  them  aside  on  the 
4th,  and  my  health,  then  bad,  grew  rapidly  worse,  until  the 
22d,  when  my  complaint  seemed  to  take  a  turn.  Be  parti 
cular  respecting  your  health. 


LETTER  LXIII. 

Roanoke,  Aug.  11,  1811. 

Friday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THE  last  mail  brought  me  no  letter  from  you,  from 
which  I  infer  you  have  left  the  city,  and  I  sincerely  hope  you 
will  not  return  to  it  until  there  is  a  frost.  The  post  neglected 
to  call  for  my  letters,  by  which  means  I  shall  be  a  week  in 
arrear.  Why,  my  dear  boy,  do  you  omit  all  mention  of  your 
health,  strength,  and  feelings.  Remember,  I  beseech  you, 
how  anxious  I  am  upon  these  subjects,  and  all  others  which 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  95 

concern  you,  personally.     Do  not  forget  to  jog  the  memory 
of  my  friend  Clay,  about  writing  to  me. 

Mr.  Brown,  of  Halifax,  N.  C.,  and  Mr.  R.  H.  Jones,  of 
Warrentown,  left  me  yesterday  morning.  They  had  been 
here  since  this  day  week,  and  confidently  expected  to  see  Mr. 
Macon,  who  had  appointed  to  meet  them  here  on  the  25th  of 
July ;  but  he  did  not  come,  to  our  great  disappointment.  It  is 
greatly  to  be  feared  that  he  is  sick.  Tudor  just  now  came 
over  from  Mr.  Rice's.  He  is  well,  and  requests  to  be  remem 
bered  kindly  to  you.  My  health  is  so  bad  that  I  despair  of 
making  you  understand  the  state  of  it.  The  digestive  facul 
ty  is  gone,  and  the  whole  nervous  system  shattered.  Life  is, 
indeed,  for  the  most  part,  to  me,  a  burden.  We  have  had 
many  very  heavy  rains  within  the  last  ten  days.  The  crops 
on  the  small  streams  are  destroyed;  and,  indeed,  the  tobacco- 
is  every  where  firing. 

Adieu!  my  son. 

Yours, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

I  killed  a  woodcock  on  the  24th  of  July. 


LETTER  LXIV. 

Roanoke,  Sunday  Evening,  Aug.  4,  1811. 
THIS  day's  post  has  brought  me  your  welcome  letter  of  the 
24th  of  July.  That  which  you  wrote  from  Bowen's  tavern, 
has  not  yet  come  to  hand.  I  am  pleased  to  see  that  you  are 
forming  an  acquaintance  with  so  respectable  a  family  as  that 
of  Mr.  Walsh.  Make  my  respects  to  him,  and  assure  him 
that  I  sympathize  in  mind,  as  well  as  in  body,  with  his  cruel 
disease.  I  trust  that  he  will  not  fail  to  profit  of  the  judicious 


96  LETTERS  OF 

advice,  for  which  I  am  greatly  obliged  to  him.  It  would  give 
me  great  pleasure  to  renew  my  old  acquaintance  in  Philadel 
phia,  and  form  a  new  one  with  a  few  of  its  worthy  inhabi 
tants.  I  have,  however,  but  three  months  to  stay  at  home, 
and  many  embarrassing  affairs  to  attend  to.  Among  them, 
the  suit  of  that  superlative  villain,  Hall,  who  has  treated  Mr. 
Coles,  if  possible,  worse  than  he  behaved  to  me. 

1  wish  you  good  sport  with  Mr.  Ashmead's  gun.  I  saw  a 
woodcock  yesterday,  and  sent  Tudor  to  the  house  for  the 
gun;  but  we  could  not  spring  it  a  second  time.  He  left  me, 
since  dinner,  for  school.  My  health  is  worse  than  ever. 

My  best  regards  to  Mr.  Clay  and  family. 

Truly,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

It  still  rains.  My  corn  crop,  alone,  is  good; — tobacco  de 
stroyed. 

It  delights  me  to  see  upon  what  terms  you  are  with  Mr. 
Clay's  family.  Why  does  he  not  write  to  me?  Do  you  hear 
any  thing  of  Dr.  Gibson?  or  Mr.  Sterrett  Ridgely?  or  Mr. 
Nicholson?  Have  you  seen  Mr.  Cooper?  Reply  to  these 
inquiries.  Are  the  Yellow  Springs  in  Bucks  county,  and 
how  far  from  Philadelphia? 

Simon  has  just  come  to  tell  me  that  Euston  has  broken  his 
fore  leg! 


LETTER  LXV. 

Monday,  Roanoke,  Aug.  12,  181L 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  from  "the  Ship"  did  not  arrive  until 
yesterday,  having  been  sent  by  mistake  to  Clarksbury,  in 
Harrison  County,  instead  of  Charlotte,  C.  H.  I  am  disap- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  97 

pointed  at  not  receiving  one  of  a  later  date,  and  I  was  not 
without  a  hope  of  hearing  from  Mr.  Clay.  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you  for  your  description  of  the  country  around, 
(or,  rather,  on  this  side  of,)  Downingtown:  such  accounts  of 
the  places,  persons,  &c.,  you  may  see,  are  very  acceptable, 
because  they  indicate  a  spirit  of  observation.  There  are 
many  who  look  and  do  not  see,  while  some  see  without  look 
ing.  Indolence  and  indifference,  the  maladie  du pays  (of 
Virginia,)  are  more  injurious  to  the  eye-sight  than  candle 
light,  and  the  smallest  print.  By  the  way,  you  have  never 
mentioned  any  preacher,  or  other  public  speaker,  whom  you 
have  heard  in  Philadelphia.  Mr.  Hoge  forms  a  standard  of 
comparison,  by  which  you  might  give  me  your  opinion  of 
Messrs.  Alexander,  Green,  or  Smith. 

I  had  thought  the  Yellow  Springs  had  been  a  newly  dis 
covered  watering-place;  but,  I  find  them  laid  down  in  a  map 
published  in  1775,  in  Pikeland  Township,  on  Pickering's 
creek,  a  water  of  Schuylkill.  They  are  placed  a  few  miles 
to  the  north-east  of  the  "Ship  tavern,"  which  is  also  laid 
down;  but,  I  presume,  that  cannot  be  the  correct  course.  I 
am  greatly  pleased  to  learn  that  your  strength  and  spirits  are 
recruiting,  and  I  highly  approve  of  your  pedestrian  essays: 
but  choose  not  Virginians  for  your  companions.  I  have  no 
doubt  that  many  of  the  medical  students  of  the  south,  leave 
Philadelphia  as  ignorant  of  every  thing  worthy  to  be  known 
in  that  city,  as  when  they  entered  it.  This  arises  from  a 
clannish  spirit,  which  makes  them  associate  exclusively  with 
one  another,  and  foster  their  ridiculous  prejudices  against  the 
people  of  the  middle  and  northern  states,  of  whom,  in  fact, 
they  know  nothing. 

St.  George  came  up  on  Saturday.  He  left  your  sister  in 
good  health:  she  is  staying  with  Mrs.  Dillon,  (Mr.  D.  is 
gone  to  the  Warm  Springs  in  Bath  County,)  during  your 
cousin's  absence,  who  is  gone  to  Staunton.  Tudor  returned 
last  evening  to  school:  he  came  with  his  mother  from  Mr. 
Rice's.  Carter  Coupland  became  a  member  of  my  family 
a  few  days  since.  Some  society  was  indispensable  to  me, 

13 


98  LETTERS  OF 

and  he  is  a  well-disposed  boy,  who,  I  trust,  will  relieve,  in 
some  degree,  my  uncomfortable  situation.  Beverley  is  at 
Staunton,  with  his  wife. 

Since  my  last,  it  has  rained  almost  daily.  My  crop  (corn 
excepted)  is  ruined,  and  my  last  year's  crop  of  tobacco,  good 
for  nothing. 

Tell  Mr.  Clay  that  I  have  just  heard  from  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Bryan,  and  that  they  are  very  well.  I  hope  you  will  not 
neglect  your  friend  Dr.  Logan.  Farewell,  my  dear  Theo 
dore.  I  long  to  see  you  once  more. 

Yours,  truly, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Mr.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

St.  George  has  turned  an  ivory  chess-man  (a  castle,)  supe 
rior  to  the  European  model.  He  shakes  you  by  the  hand. 


LETTER  LXVI. 

Mr.  Bruce's,  Halifax,  Aug.  25, 1811. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

MY  solicitude  was  such  to  hear  from  you,  that  I  sent 
Jupiter  down  this  morning  to  Roanoke  for  my  letters.  He 
returned  with  the  post-boy,  and  brought  your  two  letters  of 
the  16th  and  19th.  You  may  guess  what  my  anxiety  is  on 
the  subject  of  Mr.  Clay.  I  shall  be  on  thorns  until  the  ar 
rival  of  the  next  mail.  The  best  medical  aid  is  near  him. 
Why  does  he  not  call  in  Wistar?  Press  him  to  do  it,  and 
tell  him  that,  indeed,  "  I  cannot  afford  to  lose  any  of  my 

real  friends" — especially, .     I  am  much  concerned, 

too,  my  dear  son,  on  your  subject.     I  know  not  how  to  con 
vey  to  your  bosom  what  I  feel.     I  must  insist  upon  your 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  99 

abandoning  study  entirely,  for  the  present.  Consult  Dr. 
Wistar  seriously,  and  take  his  advice.  If  it  be  to  come 
home,  let  nothing  but  Mr.  Clay  keep  you  in  Philadelphia. 
There  has  been  a  sudden  change  in  the  weather  since  Thurs 
day,  which,  I  trust,  has  somewhat  relieved  you.  On  the  day 
on  which  you  wrote,  I  heard  Dr.  Alexander,  at  Charlotte, 
C.  H. 

I  thank  you  for  your  extracts  from  your  journal,  and  am 
pleased  to  see  that  the  ladies  come  in  for  a  share  of  your 
time.  You  had  informed  me  of  your  having  left  the  picture 
in  Baltimore.  I  have  no  option  but  to  send  this  letter  or 
none.  I  shall  make  you  a  remittance  in  a  few  days. 

Yours,  entirely, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

St.  George  is  with  me,  and  desires  his  love  to  you. 
Take  care  of  yourself,  I  beseech  you.     Keep  your  mind 
as  undisturbed  as  possible. 


LETTER  LXVII. 

Charlotte,  C.  H.,  Sept.  2,  1811. 

Court-day. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  LEAVE  you  to  judge  of  the  state  of  my  feelings, 
when  I  tell  you  that  I  rode  thirty  miles  through  the  rain 
yesterday,  for  the  sake  of  hearing  of  Mr.  Clay's  situation, 
and  find  no  letter  from  you.  My  uneasiness  on  both  your 
accounts  was  such,  that  I  determined  to  absent  myself  from 
home  until  the  post-day  should  come  round  again.  I  am 
now  to  conclude  that  you  are  worn  down  with  watching  our 
friend,  and  that  both  of  you,  perhaps,  are  in  extremity  of 


100  LETTERS  OF 

illness.  I  beseech  you  leave  me  not  in.  this  suspense;  and, 
if  unable  to  write,  get  Mr.  Croskey  to  tell  me,  in  three 
words,  how  you  and  Mr.  Clay  are.  I  intended  to  have  set 
off  to-day  for  the  Warm  Springs;  but  must  defer  it,  and  en 
counter  another  week  of  suspense  and  wretchedness.  Take 
Wistar's  advice  for  yourself,  and  call  him  in  for  Mr.  Clay. 
If  he  be  convalescent,  tell  him  I  take  it  unkindly  that  he  did 
not  cause  one  line  to  be  transmitted  me  by  the  post. 

I  heard  our  reverend  friend,  Dr.  Hoge,  preach  one  of  his 
best  sermons  yesterday,  from  Luke  xxiv.  verse  44:  he  read, 
however,  from  the  13th  to  the  47th  verse,  inclusive.  I  wish 
you  could  have  heard  his  discourse.  It  was  equally  argu 
mentative  and  pathetic.  My  best  affections  to  Mr.  Clay. 
If  the  worst  should  happen,  1  must  try  and  prevail  upon  his 
mother  to  intrust  Randolph  to  me.  My  last  will  direct  you 
how  to  proceed. 

Yours,  affectionately, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  LXVIII. 

Roanoke,  Sept.  3,  1811. 

Tuesday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

AFTER  I  had  written  to  you  yesterday,  your  letter 
to  St.  George,  of  the  22d  of  August,  was  brought  (late  at 
night)  from  Mr.  Rice's,  whither  it  had  been  sent  with  some 
of  my  own,  for  what  reason  I  cannot  conjecture.  I  beg  of 
you,  my  son,  not  to  expose  me  again  to  similar  casualty — for 
St.  George's  stay  with  me  is  quite  uncertain;  being  inter 
rupted  every  two  or  three  days  by  his  necessary  attention 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  101 

to  his  mother's  business.  She  is  in  Staunton.  I  am  relieved 
at  finding  that  Mr.  Clay  is  not  worse,  and  that  you  are  not 
yet  exhausted  by  nursing.  May  He  who  alone  has  the 
power,  watch  over  and  protect  you  both.  At  the  same  time 
that  your  letter  to  St.  George  arrived,  I  received  one  from 
Mr.  Dillon,  and  infer  from  his  silence  that  your  sister  is  well. 
If  my  accounts  by  the  next  post  are  not  more  satisfactory,  I 
shall,  forthwith,  set  out  for  Philadelphia.  I  can  bear  any 
thing  better  than  suspense.  There  is  no  fault  more  com 
mon,  or  more  to  be  avoided,  than  egotism.  But  is  it  ego 
tism  to  tell  an  anxious  friend  the  state  of  our  health?  I  am 
glad  that  my  good  friend,  Dr.  Brockenbrough,  found  you 
out.  Cherish  the  acquaintance  of  that  man.  "  He  is  not  as 
other  men  are." 

I  perceive  some  trips  in  your  orthgraphy:  for  example, 
"  benijicial,"  which,  I  own,  surprised  me;  the  etymon  be 
ing  a  safe  director:  "  allways:"  "  loose,"  the  adjective,  or 
imperative,  for  lose. 

Mr.  Hackley  has  sent  me  two  Spanish  pointers — one  dou 
ble-nosed — the  only  one,  of  that  species,  to  be  procured. 
However,  I  question  if  they  are  better  than  Echo,  or  Dido, 
whom  old  Carlo  is  now  guarding  with  a  Spaniard's  jealousy. 

St.  George  goes  down  to-morrow,  which  enables  me  to 
send  this  scratch  in  time  for  the  Genito  mail.  Tell  my 
friend  Clay  that  my  heart  is  with  you  both. 

God  bless  you !  my  son. 

Yours,  most  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


102  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LXIX. 

Roanoke,  Sept.  8,  1811. 

Sunday. 
My  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letters  have  just  arrived.  I  opened  one  from 
Dr.  Brockenbrough,  in  the  first  instance,  and  from  it  received 
the  afflicting  intelligence.*  It  dropped  from  my  hands  as  if 
I  had  touched  a  living  fire-brand.  I  cannot  tell  you  what  I 
feel.  I  could  not,  if  I  knew  myself.  But  I  do  not.  I  am 
stupefied.  I  do  not  know  what  I  am  about.  I  will  try  and 
write  again  to-morrow.  Say  to  Mrs.  Clay,  what  I  could  not 
if  I  were  with  her.  I  could  only  wring  her  hand,  and  min 
gle  my  tears  with  hers.  I  feel  a  sense  of  suffocation  about 
my  heart.  I  thank  God  that  you  were  with  him:  that  you 
could  do  all  that  could  be  done;  that  I  would  have  tried  to 
do  if  I  had  been  there.  My  dear  son,  I  can  write  no  more. 
I  will  endeavour  to  write  again. 

Yours,  unalterably, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

I  consider  Randolph  as  my  son. 

*  The  death  of  his  friend,  Mr.  Joseph  Clay,  of  Philadelphia. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  103 


LETTER  LXX. 

Roanoke,  Sept.  15,  1811. 

Sunday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THE  post  has  arrived,  and  brought  no  letter  from 
you.  You  may  judge  my  anxiety  by  reversing  the  case, 
and  making  it  your  own.  My  house  is  a  perfect  hospital. 
Mr.  Curd  *  lies  up  stairs,  at  the  point  of  death,  with  malignant 
fever.  I  have  scarcely  any  hopes  of  his  recovery.  Jupiter 
has  been  very  ill,  and  in  this  harassed  situation,  Carter  Coup- 
land  excepted,  I  have  not  had  the  assistance  of  any  person 
besides  my  own  people.  Dr.  Merry  has,  indeed,  attended 
with  much  solicitude:  Curd  has  now  been  ill  nearly  a  fort 
night. 

The  lectures  are  so  near  commencing,  that  I  would  not 
have  you  leave  Philadelphia  unless  your  health  should  re 
quire  the  measure;  of  that  Dr.  Wistar  will  be  the  best  judge, 
and  to  it  I  would  have  you  sacrifice  every  other  considera 
tion. 

I  scarcely  know  what  I  write.     Beverley  is  in  Staunton, 
and  has  not  been  here  two  days,  together,  since  about  the  1st 
of  July.     Farewell,  my  son!     Say  all  that  is  proper  for  me 
to  Mrs.  Clay  and  Mr.  Ashmead's  family. 
Your  affectionate  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Your  sister  was  well  on  Tuesday  last. 
*  His  overseer. 


104  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LXXI. 

Roanoke,  Sept.  22,  181 L 

Sunday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THE  post-boy  has  just  now  brought  your  two  letters 
of  the  10th  and  14th  of  this  month.  They  have  relieved 
my  mind  from  the  uneasiness  produced  by  not  hearing  from 
you  last  week.  Indeed,  my  attention  had  been,  in  some 
measure,  distracted  by  the  scene  of  distress  which  my  house 
has  exhibited  for  some  time  past.  Mr.  Curd  breathed  his 
last  on  Thursday  morning,  half  past  three  o'clock,  after  a 
most  severe  illness,  which  lasted  sixteen  days.  I  insisted 
upon  his  coming  up  here,  where  he  had  every  possible  aid 
that  the  best  medical  advice  and  most  assiduous  nursing  could 
afford  him.  During  the  last  week  of  his  sickness,  I  was  ne 
ver  absent  from  the  house  but  twice,  about  an  hour  each 
time,  for  air  and  exercise:  I  sat  up  with  him,  and  gave  him 
almost  all  his  medicines,  with  my  own  hand,  and  saw  that 
every  possible  attention  was  paid  to  him.  This  is,  to  me,  an 
unspeakable  comfort;  and  it  pleased  God  to  support  me  un 
der  this  trying  scene,  by  granting  me  better  health  than  I 
had  experienced  for  seven  years.  On  Thursday  evening  I 
followed  him  to  the  grave;  and,  soon  after,  the  effects  of  the 
fatigue  and  distress  of  mind  that  I  had  suffered,  prostrated 
my  strength  and  spirits,  and  I  became  ill.  Three  successive 
nights  of  watching  were  too  much  for  my  system  to  endure; 
but,  I  am  now  better,  although  weak  and  giddy.  I  was  with 
him,  when  he  died,  without  a  groan  or  change  of  feature. 
My  servants,  also,  have  been  all  sick,  except  Essex,  Hetty, 
and  Nancy.  Carter  Coupland,  my  only  companion  in  this 
scene  of  trouble,  has  behaved  most  nobly.  If  I  had  per 
mitted  it,  he  would  have  exhausted  himself  by  sitting  up. 
He  bas  been  of  inexpressible  assistance  and  comfort  to  me. 
On  Wednesday  morning  Beverley,  who  accompanied  your 
cousin  from  Staunton,  came  to  breakfast,  and  went  on  im- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  105 

mediately  to  Halifax  Court.  He  is  now  at  Prince  Edward 
Superior  Court,  where  Mr.  Leigh  is  to  appear  for  Robert 
Gibson  on  a  charge  of  murdering  Samuel  Pearce,  his  brother 
in  law;  and  Beverley  for  Caleb  Baker,  junior,  who  is  to  be 
tried  for  shooting  a  negro. 

It  is  grateful  to  me  to  see  that  the  relict  of  my,  let  me 
say  our  poor  friend,  and  his  other  connexions,  do  not  under 
value  my  regard  for  the  memory  of  that  excellent  man. 
Say  all  that  is  proper  for  me  to  them.  I  am  too  unsettled  to 
write.  I  hope  Mr.  Croskey  will  send  me  the  picture  after 
having  such  copies  taken  as  Mr.  Clay's  friends  may  desire. 
Has  mine  ever  arrived  in  Philadelphia?  I  paid  Jarvis  eighty 
dollars.  Do  not  be  uneasy  about  me;  but  write  often, 
and  fully  of  yourself,  and  affairs.  I  know  you  must  be 
getting  out  of  cash.  I  enclose  a  small  supply  of  forty  dol 
lars,  and  will  send  more  when  I  can  get  out,  and  procure  it. 

I  am  comforted  to  find  that  my  dear  friend's  family  are 
getting  more  composed  under  their  calamity.  I  hope  he 
left  them  in  easy  circumstances.  Say  something  on  this  sub 
ject  to  me,  as  well  as  on  that  of  your  own  finances;  one  on 
which  you  are  culpably  reserved. 

My  other  overseer,  Palmer,  is  very  sick;  an  autumnal 
fever,  prevalent  among  the  poor  slaves.  I  give  them  eme 
tics  of  ipecacuanha  and  tartar  emetic  combined,  twelve  and 
two  grains:  one-third  taken  until  it  operates,  and  afterwards 
a  mercurial  cathartic.  This  treatment  has  proved  effectual 
in  all  the  cases  except  three:  in  those,  Doctor  Merry's 
skill  has  succeeded  in  giving  relief.  You  may  probably 
hear  exaggerated  reports  of  my  illness.  Give  no  credit  to 
them.  It  has  been  the  effect  of  watching,  fatigue,  and 
anxiety;  and  rest  will  soon  restore  me.  Mr.  William 
Watkins,  and  Colonel  Morton  have  just  called  to  inquire 
how  I  do.. 

Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Mr.  THEO.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

Your  sister  was  well  on  Monday.     Carter  sends  his  love. 

14 


106  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LXXII. 

••  'iy* 

Roanoke,  Oct.  6,  1811. 

,,    '       Sunday. 

DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  two  letters,  of  the  23d  and  30th  of  September, 
have  just  now  reached  me.  1  awaited  the  arrival  of  the 
post,  in  the  expectation  of  hearing  from  you,  with  feelings 
which  you  will  be  at  no  loss  to  comprehend,  because  you 
have  so  well  described  them.  Let  me  beg  of  you,  my  son, 
to  dismiss  all  anxiety  on  my  account.  I  wish  I  could  as  rea 
dily  relieve  all  your  other  cares;  but,  therein,  "the  patient 
must  minister  to  himself."  I  have  been  very  unwell,  but 
am  now,  thanks  be  to  God!  quite  restored  to  my  usual 
health.  I  have  never  failed  to  write  to  you  by  every  post; 
if  my  letters  have  not  come  to  hand,  the  fault  is  to  be  laid 
to  the  door  of  the  post-office.  Take  care  of  yourself,  my 
dear  fellow;  if  not  for  your  own,  at  least  for  my  sake. 
Struggle  against  desponding  and  low  spirits,  and  endeavour 
to  cultivate  and  to  cherish  a  cheerful,  or,  at  least,  a  serene, 
habit  of  mind.  This  is  more  in  our  power  than  we  are  in 
general  aware  of:  especially  in  early  life.  It  is  only  when 
the  opposite,  or  any  other  ill  habit,  is  formed  and  fastened 
upon  us,  by  that  tyrant  custom,  that  we  see  and  feel,  and 
fruitlessly  bewail  our  error.  1  am  shocked,  and  should  be 
surprised,  if  any  thing  could  surprise  me  that  man  can  do, 
at  the  gross  and  cruel  injustice  done  to  the  memory  and  fa 
mily  of  our  excellent  friend,  by  his  late  employers:  but  it 
is  not  among  money  lenders,  and,  especially,  monied  corpo 
rations,  that  I  should  look  for  delicacy,  feeling,  or  liberality; 
much  leas  for  justice.  There  is  in  all  the  combinations  of 
nature  and  art,  nothing  so  hard  and  callous  as  a  trading  com 
pany,  of  whatever  description.  They  look  to  the  dividend; 
to  the  profit  and  loss  account  of  the  leger;  and,  whether 
their  gain  flow  from  the  blood  of  a  Hindoo,  or  African; 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  107 

from  the  ruined  reputation  of  an  honest  and  amiable  man,  or 
the  tears  of  his  widowed  companion  and  orphan  offspring, 
it  is  all  one  to  these  ivorthy  personages.  I  had  feared  that 
the  generous  temper  of  our  friend  had  disabled  him  from 
making  a  secure  and  permanent  provision  for  his  family.  It 
was  therefore,  that  I  directed  my  inquiries  to  that  point. 
Mrs.  Clay  (to  whom  I  have  not  yet  the  heart  to  write)  will 
not,  1  hope,  deny  me  the  melancholy  privilege  of  consider 
ing  Randolph  as  my  own  son.  I  intend,  with  her  permis 
sion,  to  take  upon  myself  the  charge  of  his  education  and 
advancement  in  life.  Could  1  do  a  thousand  times  more,  his 
father  had  deserved  it  all  richly  at  my  hands.  Do  let  her 
know  this  through  Mr.  Croskey,  or  in  any  other  way  which 
your  own  delicate  and  manly  spirit  may  suggest. 

I  was  aware  that  your  finances  must  have  been  straitened, 
and,  therefore,  I  wished  to  know  how  they  stood,  that  I 
might  make  the  speediest  and  most  efficient  provision  on 
that  head.  This,  you  say,  is  "a  delicate  subject:"  true,  it. is 
so,  in  general,  but  not  between  you  and  myself,  my  dear  son. 
Take  care  of  your  heart.  Pity  is  a-kin  to  Love.  Grief  pre 
pares  the  affections  for  the  sway  of  that  seducing  tyrant. 
The  ladies  of  Philadelphia  are  fair  and  alluring,  and  your 
time  of  life  is  most  propitious  to  their  power  over  your  heart. 
In  the  language  of  your  profession,  there  is  in  every  young 
man  of  a  just  and  honourable  way  of  thinking,  of  refined 
and  elevated  notions,  a  strong  predisposition  to  this  univer 
sal  disease,  which,  like  some  others,  all  of  us  must  have  once 
in  our  lives.  If  the  case  be  desperate,  make  me  your  con 
fidant,  if  you  can:  I  will  endeavour  to  prove  myself  not 
unworthy  of  the  trust.  But  I  protest  against  extorted  con 
fidence  and  forced  prayers.  I,  too,  have  been  young,  and 
know  how  to  make  allowance,  I  trust,  for  the  noblest  infir 
mity  of  our  nature;  which  none  but  the  young,  or  those  who 
have  not  forgotten  the  feelings  of  their  youth,  can  duly  esti 
mate. 

I  shall  go  on  early  to  Washington,  and  do  not  wish  you 
to  come  on  there  until  you  hear  of  me  from  thence.    Again, 


108  LETTERS  OF 

take  care  of  yourself.  As  soon  as  I  get  to  Richmond  (if  not 
sooner)  I  shall  make  you  a  remittance.  I  would  not  have 
had  you  put  even  the  semblance  of  slight  upon  the  memory 
of  our  dear  friend,  for  the  wealth  of  Croesus. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore:  for  such  you  are,  and  ever 
will  be,  to 

Your  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

Carter  greets  you  cordially:  so  does  Beverley.  Henry 
Tucker  has  lost  his  youngest  child:  so  has  Mr.  William  Wat- 
kins.  All  well  at  Bizarre,  yesterday. 

I  sent  you  $40  by  the  last  postj  or,  rather,  the  penulti 
mate,  which,  I  presume,  you  have  received:  $20  and  $150 
before;  that  is,  since  we  parted  in  Baltimore.  I  state  this, 
to  avoid  mistake.  Mr.  Garnett,  speaking  of  Mr.  Clay's 
death,  says — "  I  feared  until  I  heard  from  you,"  (a  misap 
prehension  of  a  passage  of  my  letter,)  "  of  Dr. -Brocken- 
brough's  being  with  him,  that  those  Philadelphia  Sangrados 
had  killed  him.  Poor  fellow,  he  always  appeared  to  me  too 
fond  of  their  most  absurd  and  most  fatal  system,  of  taking 
all  the  blood  out  of  a  man's  body  by  way  of  prolonging  his 
life.*  He  lived  long  enough  for  his  own  fame,  but  the  loss 
of  such  a  man,  at  any  period,  must  be  considered  both  as  a 
public  and  a  private  calamity." 


*  Do  you  take  warning,  and  consult  Wistar,  Physick,  and  the  fathers  of 
medicine. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  109 


LETTER  LXXIII. 

Roanoke,  Oct.  13,  1811. 

Sunday  Night. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  welcome  letter  of  the  6th  arrived  to-day,  most 
opportunely,  to  withdraw  my  mind  from  those  vexatious  and 
vulgar  details  to  which  a  Southern  planter  must,  in  some  de 
gree,  attend,  or  encounter  certain  ruin.  You  may  well  sup 
pose  how  much  my  time  is  taken  up  with  these  heartless, 
or,  rather,  disheartening  cases,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  have 
not  yet  found  any  one  to  supply  the  place  of  poor  Curd — I 
mean  in  form;  for  I  "  shall  never  look  upon  his  like  again." 

I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  can  and  do  amuse  yourself  with 
field-sports:  but  I  hope  you  will  take  care  how  you  exchange 
shots  with  any  but  gentlemen;  and  even  with  them,  that 
you  will  have  your  quarrel  just.  A  man  would  cut  a  piti 
ful  figure  who  should  lose  his  life  in  a  brawl  with  such  fel 
lows  as  you  describe  your  unknown  adversary  to  be.  We 
should  study  that  our  deaths,  as  well  as  our  lives,  should  be 
innocent,  if  not  honourable  and  glorious;  so  that  our  friends 
should  have  no  cause  to  blush  for  the  folly,  or  rashness,  of 
either.  At  the  same  time,  be  assured,  my  dear  Theodore, 
that,  of  all  the  defects  in  the  human  character,  there  is  none 
that  I  should  so  much  deprecate  for  my  friend,  or  myself,  as 
want  of  spirit  and  firmness. 

You  say  that  "  Mrs.  Clay  is  anxious  to  get  my  picture." 
Do  you  mean  my  picture  of  Mr.  Clay,  or  the  picture  of  my 
self  which  I  had  taken  for  him?  The  last,  Mr.  Nicholson, 
jr.,  promised  to  transmit  to  Philadelphia  last  spring.  I  am 
very  anxious  to  get  my  picture  of  Mr.  Clay  as  soon  as  it 
shall  have  been  copied  for  his  friends.  I  cannot  part  with 
the  original,  unless  Mrs.  Clay  desires  it.  Present  me,  af 
fectionately,  to  her  and  Randolph.  I  hope  to  see  them 


HO  LETTERS  OF 

some  time  this  winter.     Can  she  be  prevailed  upon,  do  you 
think,  to  intrust  him  to  my  care? 

I  am  glad  you  have  become  acquainted  with  Mr.  John 
Morton,  of  Bordeaux.  He  is  a  most  valuable  man;  an  ho 
nour  to  Virginia.  His  worthy  connexions  will  be  justly 
proud  to  see  him. 

To  whom  is  my  friend  Roscius  about  to  be  married?  I 
hope  some  good  party :  although  I  fear  matrimony  will  not 
suit  his  habits.  He  has  been  too  long  a  "  chartered  liber 
tine/'  to  bear  the  matrimonial  chains:  they  will  not  clank 
so  gracefully  as  the  fetters  of  Pierre. 

Mr.  Patton,  of  Alexandria,  writes  to  me  that  he  has  re 
ceived  from  Mr.  Hackley  a  fine  pointer  for  me,  which  he 
keeps  subject  to  my  order.  Mr.  Hackley's  last  letter  men 
tions  the  dog  as  a  very  fine  one.  He  sent  three  others  for 
Mr.  W.  R.  and  myself;  one  of  which  is  a  double-nosed  slut. 
It  was  the  only  one,  of  that  race,  that  Mr.  H.  had  been 
able  to  procure  since  the  loss  of  the  two  (by  storm)  that  he 
had  shipped  for  us.  The  French,  around  the  Bay  of  Cadiz, 
got  possession  of  them. 

I  have  killed  one  soree,  or  rat,  (I  believe  the  word  is  so 
spelled,  without  the  i,)  about  a  dozen  ortolans,  and,  this 
morning,  a  very  fine  whistling  plover;  the  heaviest  bird  I 
ever  felt  of  his  size.  I  shot  him  at  the  cow-pen,  in  compa 
ny  with  some  kildees;  and,  after  I  had  shot,  a  very  large 
flock  rose,  a  few  paces  off— but  I  got  no  second  opportunity. 
We  have,  apparently,  no  woodcocks. 

Adieu,  dear  Theodore! 
I  am,  most  truly, 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

I  receive  your  letters — but  irregularly;  two  at  a  time.  I 
hope  you  have  visited  Mr.  Cooper,  and  that  he  has  seen  Mr. 
Crawford's  letter  on  the  subject  of  a  certain  affair  that  took 
place  at  the  close  of  the  last  session  of  congress.  I  sent  a 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  HI 

copy  of  it  to  Mr.  Clay,  and  requested  that  it  might  be  shown 
to  Mr.  Cooper.  This  is,  probably,  the  last  letter  I  shall 
write  from  this  place,  until  we  meet  again.  I  long  to  see 
you  once  more.  Carter  desires  his  love.  Beverley  went  to 
Staunton  on  Wednesday.  He  has  not  been  here  two  days 
since  June,  all  taken  together — never  two  in  succession. 


LETTER  LXXIV. 

Roanoke,  Oct.  20, 1811. 

Sunday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

CONTRARY  to  my  expectation,  I  address  another  let 
ter  to  you  from  this  place,  (written,  for  want  of  paper,  on 
the  cover  of  your  own  of  the  12th,  which  the  post-boy  has 
just  handed  to  me.)  Just  as  I  was  preparing  to  set  out,  poor 
Carter  was  taken  sick,  and  T  am  too  strongly  bound  to  him, 
by  his  kind  attentions  to  myself  and  family,  to  think  of 
leaving  him,  under  such  circumstances.  His  disease  (a  mild 
form  of  autumnal  fever)  has  yielded  to  a  single  dose  of  ca 
lomel.  The  night  before  last,  just  as  he  had  fallen  asleep, 
and  I  was  watching  by  his  bed-side,  Tudor  arrived,  to  my 
great  comfort  and  relief.  Beverley,  who  went  to  Staunton 
a  fortnight  ago,  has  not  yet  returned.  Tudor  left  your  sis 
ter,  his  mother,  and  brother,  in  good  health.  Yesterday 
John  Morton  and  Mr.  Tucker  (Henry,  brother  of  George,) 
arrived;  and  to-day  we  broke  the  Sabbath,  according  to  the 
estimation  of  puritans.  When  I  had  killed  one  ortolan  and 
three  partridges,  the  rain  drove  us  in,  about  ten  o'clock. 

Be  assured,  my  dear  Theodore,  that  your  letter,  which 
now  lies  before  me,  verifies,  most  strikingly,  the  truth  of  the 


112  LETTERS  OF 

Rambler's  remark.  Our  pleasure,  then,  is  mutual:  may  it 
be  ever  thus  between  us,  my  son!  May  our  connexion  be 
to  you,  as  it  has  been  to  me,  productive  only  of  satisfaction, 
as  little  alloyed  as  any  human  enjoyment  can  be.  It  has 
been  to  me  a  source  of  comfort  and  consolation  that  I  would 
not  exchange  for  all  the  dignities  and  kingdoms  of  this 
world. 

It  gives  me  great  pleasure  to  find  that  your  health  is  bet 
ter,  and  that  the  tone  of  your  spirits  is  somewhat  restored, 
after  their  late  severe  shock  from  the  loss  of  our  dear 
friend,  poor  Mr.  Clay !  Time,  I  trust,  will  do  the  rest.  If 
I  were  a  younger  man,  I  should  almost  envy  you  the  plea 
sure  of  seeing  my  friend,  Cooper,  on  the  stage.  As 
it  is,  I  rejoice  that  you  have  a  resource  against  tedium 
and  lassitude,  at  once  so  rational  and  delightful:  one  which, 
dulled  as  my  powers  of  perception  are,  by  a  long,  hack 
neyed  journey  through  life,  I  could  yet  relish  with  no  com 
mon  zest.  While  such  recreations  are  within  your  reach, 
(to  say  nothing  of  the  ladies,)  I  have  no  fear  (even  were  my 
confidence  in  your  taste  and  principles  less  than  it  is)  of 
your  falling  into  any  unworthy  and  degrading  courses.  Of 
all  the  remedies  for  ennui,  dissipation  is  the  least  efficient, 
and  the  most  destructive  of  the  moral  as  well  as  the  physi 
cal  constitution  of  man.  Yet  we  are,  all  of  us,  more  the 
creatures  of  circumstances,  than  the  pride  of  human  nature 
is  willing  to  allow.  Hand  inexperto  loquor.  I  have 
known  what  it  is  to  be  cast  upon  a  wide  world,  without  a 
friend  or  counsellor,  or  opportunity,  to  waste  my  capacity 
(such  as  it  was)  in  idleness,  my  fortune  in  extravagance,  and 
my  health  in  excess. 

The  superscription  of  your  letter  admonishes  me  to  con 
clude.  I  have  no  objection — far  otherwise — to  your  going 
to  New  York,  if  your  finances  will  furnish  the  means.  1 
take  shame  to  myself  that  they  are  so  low:  but  I  have  been 
going  to  Richmond  every  week  for  some  months  back. 
When  there,  I  shall  replenish  your  exchequer.  If  you  go, 
apprize  me  of  your  address.  My  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Clay 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

and  all  her  good  family.     Speak  to  Mr.  Croskey  about  the 
picture. 

Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
MR.  THEO.  BLAND  DUDLEY, 

The  boys  send  their  best  love  to  you,  The  weather 
changed  to-day  greatly  for  the  better.  You  are  aware  of 
the  fatal  consequences  of  "  a  single  false  step."  Present 
my  best  respects  to  Mr.  Cooper,*  and  tell  him  that  I  have  re 
ceived  his  obliging  letter,  and  that  I  would  answer  it,  but  that 
I  am  hurried  in  preparing  to  leave  home.  My  friend  Kid- 
der  has  sent  me  "  Don  Roderick/'  proximus  longo  inter- 
vallo  to  the  "Lady  of  the  Lake;"  herself  as  far  removed 
from  "Marmion"  or  "The  Lay." 


LETTER  LXXV. 

Hanover,  C.  H.,  Nov.  1,   1811. 

Friday,  half  past  11,  P.  M. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

ft  '. 

I  LEFT  Roanoke  on  Thursday,  (Oct.  24,)  between  12 
and  I,  and  got  to  Bizarre  that  night,  just  as  the  family  were 
retiring  to  bed.  The  effects  of  the  night  air  (it  was  very  cold) 
were  very  severe,  and  I  have  not  yet  recovered  from  the  ex 
posure.  Your  sister  and  cousin  were  well;  so  was  St.  George. 
Tudor  rode  down  with  me  from  Roanoke.  I  heard  from  him 
again  to-day;  on  Friday,  (Oct.  25,)  I  progressed,  in  great 
pain,  to  our  friend's,  Mr.  Thomas  Miller,  who  inquired 

*  The  tragedian. 
15 


114  LETTERS  OF 

kindly  after  you.  Next  day,  Saturday,  (26th,)  I  reached 
Richmond,  half  dead,  but  amply  compensated  by  meeting 
with  my  dear  brother  Henry,  who,  I  had  feared,  might  have 
left  town.  The  last  thing  that  I  did,  to-day,  was  to  make  an 
arrangement  to  place  $250,  subject  to  your  order,  in  the  Far 
mers  and  Mechanics'  Bank  of  Philadelphia.  My  remit 
tance  would  have  been  larger;  but  I  have  not  been  able  to 
effect  a  sale  of  my  tobacco,  on  any  terms — you  must,  there 
fore,  excuse  the  scantiness  of  your  supply. 

I  dined,  to-day,  with  our  friend  Dr.  Brockenbrough,  and 
came  out  of  town  about  sunset.  Henry  Tucker  is  in  fine 
health  and  spirits. 

I  determined  to  give  you  the  earliest  intelligence  of  the 
replenishing  of  your  exchequer.  Good  night.  I  must  be  in 
Washington  the  day  after  to-morrow. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

I  met  Beverley,  and  his  wife  and  child,  at  Bizarre,  on 
their  way  home. 


LETTER  LXXVI. 

Georgetown,  December  12,  1811. 
Thursday  Night,  11  o'clock. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  has  just  arrived,  to  my  very  great  relief. 
I  had  begun  to  be  uneasy  on  your  subject.  Pray  let  me  hear 
oftener  from  you,  if  it  be  but  a  line,  to  say  that  you  are  well. 
My  own  health  is  sinking  under  the  arduous  duties  which 
are  imposed  upon  me,  and  I  meditate  a  short  retreat  to  my 
friend,  Mr.  C.  Sterrett  Ridgeley's,  near  Elk  Ridge  Landing. 
My  'best  regards  attend  Mrs.  Clay.  I  should  have  been  more 
particular  in  my  communications  to  her,  but  I  hoped  to  have 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  115 

had  the  pleasure  to  see  her,  in  person,  ere  this.     Has  Cap 
tain  Ashmead  received  my  letters? 
Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  LXXVII. 

Saturday,  Jan.  5, 1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  been  much  indisposed,  but  am  now  better.  I 
have  neither  health,  spirits,  nor  leisure  to  write.  At  this  mo 
ment,  I  have  at  least  fifty  unanswered  letters;  some  of  them 
on  business  of  consequence.  Recollect,  my  son,  that  I  have 
some  twenty  or  thirty  correspondents:  you,  perhaps,  not  more 
than  three  or  four.  I  say  nothing  of  my  other  avocations. 

My  spirits  are  crushed  by  the  late  calamitous  event  at 
Richmond.*  Mrs.  Brockenbrough,  I  fear,  will  lose  her 
senses,  irretrievably!  Would  to  God,  my  son,  that  circum 
stances  permitted  you  to  be  with  me,  at  this  moment.  I 
have  need  of  comfort 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
Late— Saturday  Night. 

*  The  burning  of  the  Theatre. 


116  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LXXVIII. 

Georgetown,  Jan.  9,  1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  16th.  Why 
are  you  so  concise?  You  surely  cannot  plead  want  of  time, 
or  number  of  correspondents.  Give  my  best  respects  to 
Mr.  Walsh,  and  tell  him  that  the  least  inaccurate  sketches 
of  my  speeches  will  be  found  in  the  "Spirit  of  '76,"  but 
they  are  extremely  imperfect,  and  I  have  neither  health, 
leisure,  nor  (I  might  add)  power  to  render  them  less  so. 
Speaking,  as  I  always  do,  from  the  impulse  of  the  moment, 
the  verba  ardentia  cannot  be  recalled.  The  glowing  pic 
ture  fades — the  happy  epithet,  the  concise  and  forcible  ex 
pression  is  lost,  never  again  to  be  retrieved.  A  miserable 
shadow  is  all  that  remains — nor  can  I  look  upon  it  without 
disgust.  My  best  regards  to  Dr.  Logan:  I  shall  be  rejoiced 
to  see  him  here.  Adieu. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY, 


LETTER  LXXIX. 

Monday,  Jan.  12,  1812. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  have  crawled  down  to  the  house,  for  the  purpose  of 
giving  my  vote  on  a  proposition,  which,  after  having  been 
debated  for  nearly  a  week,  is  withdrawn.  I  received  Captain 
Ashmead's  papers,  and  they  are  before  the  secretary  of  state, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  117 

with  such  observations  as  I  thought  proper  to  make  upon 
them,  consisting,  chiefly,  of  Captain  Ashmead's  statement  of 
facts  -respecting  the  charges  of  interest,  &c. 

I  saw  Mr.  Rush  last  evening.  He  spoke  of  you  very 
obligingly.  Pray  keep  up  your  spirits:  you  are  too  young 
to  indulge  in  this  fatal  luxury. 

Farewell,  my  son! 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

My  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Clay  and  family.  As  soon  as  I 
hear  from  the  secretary  of  state,  I  shall  transmit  his  deci 
sion  to  Captain  Ashmead. 


LETTER  LXXX. 

Georgetown,  Jan.  16, 1812. 

Thursday  Night. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  been  confined  all  day  to  my  apartment  by  in 
disposition — not  severe,  but  highly  distressing:  a  general 
prostration  of  strength  and  spirits,  arising,  I  believe,  from 
erratic  gout.  In  this  state  of  body  and  mind,  nothing  is  so 
grateful  to  me  as  the  recollection  of  my  friends;  but,  I  hear 
from  few  of  them,  and  at  long  intervals,  or  by  scanty  let 
ters.  I  see  that  Mr.  Dennie  is  no  more.  What  character 
did  he  bear  in  Philadelphia?  Was  he  an  intimate  of  Mr. 
Walsh?  Have  you  seen  that  gentleman  lately?  When  you 
do  see  him,  present  my  sincere  respects  to  him,  and  to  Dr. 
Logan,  also.  Do  you  visit  at  Mr.  Dallas's?  You  forget  al 
ways  to  say  any  thing  of  yourself,  and  your  affairs. 


118  LETTERS  OF 

Good  night,  my  son! 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
MR.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  LXXXI. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  3, 1812, 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  scanty  letter  of  one  straggling  page,  serves  to  con 
vince  me  that  you  have  not  entirely  forgotten  me.  But  why, 
my  son,  do  you  say  nothing  of  your  pursuits,  your  companions, 
or  of  the  few  persons  whom  you  see,  that  are  known  to  me, 
by  character,  at  least?  Dr.  Logan,  for  instance,  or  Mr.  Walsh. 
I  know  by  fatal  experience,  my  child,  the  fascinations  of  a 
town  life — how  they  estrange  the  mind  from  its  old  habits  and 
attachments;  but  I  will  not  permit  myself  to  believe  that  you 
have  yielded  to  their  influence.  In  reminding  me  of  Blooms- 
bury  and  Fidget,*  you  recall  to  my  recollection  some  unplea 
sant,  at  least  mournful  recollections.  I  had  intended  to  ac 
company  Mr.  Parish  to  Baltimore.  But,  late  on  the  evening 
previously  to  his  departure,  a  circumstance  occurred  that  de 
tained  me  here  one  day  longer.  I  meant  to  have  written  to 
you  by  Mr.  P.  in  order  to  introduce  you  to  his  acquaintance. 
He  is  a  gentleman  of  great  worth  and  intelligence.  I  hope 
he  will  use  my  old  servants  well. 

My  Virginian  friends,  except  Mr.  Leigh  and  Dr.  Brocken- 
brough,  have  scarcely  written  me  a  line  this  winter.     By  my 

*  Two  saddle  Iwrses  that  he  had  sold  to  Mr,  Parish. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  119 

old  neighbours,  and  my  new  ones  too,  I  have  been  entirely  ne 
glected. 

You  say  nothing  of  Mrs.  Clay,  or  her  family.  I  propose 
doing  myself  the  pleasure  of  seeing  them,  whenever  the  state 
of  things  here  will  allow  me  to  leave  Washington,  or,  rather, 
Congress.  Present  me,  very  respectfully,  to  her  and  her  fa 
mily  ;  also,  to  Captain  Ashmead,  and  tell  him  that  no  decision 
has  yet  been  made  on  the  claim  which  he  transmitted  me. 

Good  night,  my  son.  1  feel  very  low  this  evening.  May 
God  bless  and  protect  you. 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roan6ke. 

My  best  respects  to  Mr.  Walsh,  and  to  Dr.  Logan,  when 
you  see  him. 


LETTER  LXXXII. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  5, 1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  SAW  Mr.  Dallas  to-day,  for  the  first  time  since  his  ar 
rival,  and  he  reproached  me  for  not  having  made  him  ac 
quainted  with  you.  I  related  to  him  the  fact,  just  as  it  had 
occurred,  and  he  bids  me  tell  you  that  you  can  only  make 
atonement  for  your  transgression  by  calling  on  Mrs.  Dallas 
during  his  absence.  On  his  return,  he  expects  to  find  you  at 
home  in  his  house. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 


LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  LXXXIII. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  15, 1812. 

1  THANK  you,  my  dear  Theodore,  for  your  very  affectionate 
letter.  My  avocations,  the  state  of  my  health,  and,  I  am  sorry 
to  add,  of  my  spirits,  must  plead  my  excuse,  when  I  do  not 
make  a  prompt  and  suitable  return  for  such  instances  of  your 
attention.  I  have  seldom  experienced  a  greater  depression 
than  at  the  present  moment.  You  must  not  account  with  me 
too  severely,  my  son.  Could  you  know  what  I  feel,  I  should 
want  no  advocate  in  your  breast. 

It  would  be  matter  of  surprise  to  me,  if  you  had  not  been 
touched,  as  I  perceive  you  have  been,  with  the  uncommon 
merits  of  your  friend,  the  late  Mr.  Clay.  Why  do  you  say  so 
little  of  his  widow  and  orphan  family  ?  Why  are  you  silent 
on  the  subject  of  his  picture,  respecting  which  I  feel,  and  have 
expressed,  so  much  interest  ? 

I  am  glad  to  find  that  you  occupy  yourself  in  the  study  of 
the  sacred  writings.  Go  on  and  prosper,  as  assuredly  he 
must,  who  is  engaged  in  so  ennobling  a  pursuit.  But  I  am 
sorry  to  find  in  your  diary,  so  many  notices  of  lectures  unat 
tended.*  These  instances,  I  hope,  will  not  hereafter  so  fre 
quently  occur. 

Farewell,  my  son  !  Remember  me  to  Mr.  Walsh  and  to 
Dr.  Logan ;  and  believe  me,  with  the  truest  regard,  your 
friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Mr.  THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


Owing  to  indisposition,, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  LXXXIV. 

Georgetown,  March  4,  1812. 

I  HAVE  been  for  some  time  past  remiss  in  my  corres 
pondence  with  you,  my  dear  Theodore;  and  even  now,  I 
shall  hardly  make  amends  for  my  deficiency.  My  health  is 
bad,  and  my  perplexities  many.  The  object  of  this  letter 
is  to  request  you  to  transmit  to  me  an  account  of  the  state  of 
your  finances,  and  to  let  me  know  whether  any  new  regula 
tions  have  been  made  respecting  the  graduation  of  the  me 
dical  student,  in  your  university.  I  hope  to  see  you  shortly. 
Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

Pardon  the  seeming  abruptness  of  this  letter. 


LETTER  LXXXV. 

Georgetown,  March  13, 1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  SHOULD  have  written  to  you  before  this  time,  by 
our  friend  Dr.  Logan,  who  is  here,  and  who  intended  to 
have  gone  to  Philadelphia,  the  day  before  yesterday;  but  he 
has  postponed  his  journey  until  the  day  after  to-morrow.  I 
was,  and  still  am  anxious  to  know  whether,  agreeably  to 
the  regulations  of  the  university,  you  can  honourably  gra 
duate  this  season. 

I  am  obliged  to  Dr.  Chapman  for  his  good  intentions;  but 
my  life,  eventful  as  it  has  been  in  some  points  of  view,  will 

16 


122  LETTERS  OF 

hardly  afford  materials  for  biography.  I  ought  to  have  no- 
objection  to  the  engraving  in  question,  except  as  it  will  of 
fer  but  an  uninteresting  and  insignificant  subject  to  the  pub 
lic  attention. 

You  wiff  hear  farther  from  me  by  our  friend  the  Doctor. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  LXXXVL 

Georgetown,  March  14, 1812. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE^ 

OUR  friend,  Dr.  Logan,  will  hand  you  this.  Enclosed 
you  have  one  hundred  dollars,  which,  I  trust,  will  put  your 
finances  a  little  above  par.  Pray,  my  dear  son,  write  to  me 
fully  on  the  subject  of  my  last  letter — the  prospect  of  gra 
duation.  1  have  the  strongest  wish  to  have  you  with  me. 
Dr.  Logan,  contrary  to  my  expectation,  leaves  town  to-mor 
row,  instead  of  the  day  after.  I  am,  therefore,  obliged  to 
be  abrupt,  which  I  hope  you  will  excuse.  In  haste,  but 
with  the  truest  regard,  1  am,  my  dear  Theodore, 
Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY, 

I  have  put  my  name  on  the  back  of  the  note,  (which  I  re* 
eeived  of  government,)  to  put  an  end  to  any  difficulty  in  its. 
negotiation.  My  best  respects  to  Mr.  Walsh. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  123 

LETTER  LXXXVII. 

Georgetown,  May  11,  1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  received  your  two  "  short  and  hurried  letters." 
I  am  much  concerned,  my  son,  to  hear  that  you  "  have  been 
very  unhappy  since  you  got  back  to  Virginia."  I  am  afraid 
you  will  find  nothing  in  our  solitary  and  deserted  habitation 
to  raise  your  spirits.  I  shrink  at  the  idea  of  returning  to 
it.  Disappointed  of  every  rational  hope  of  my  life — look 
ing  forward  to  nothing  better  in  this  world — my  faculties 
jaded,  and  daily  forsaking  me — with  recollections  of  the 
past  which  I  would  gladly  dismiss  for  ever  from  my  memo 
ry — it  is  for  me,  and  such  as  me,  to  talk  of  being  unhappy. 

I  believe  I  omitted  to  tell  you  that  I  wished  you  to  use 
Everlasting: — pray  be  merciful  to  her. 
Yours,  sincerely, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  LXXXVIII. 

Georgetown,  May,  1812, 

I  THANK  you,  my  dear  Theodore,  for  your  letter  of 
the  14th:  it  is  all  I  can  do.  Tudor,  tired  of  Baltimore  and 
its  vicinity,  has  gone  on  to  Philadelphia.  I  enclosed  him 
letters  to  Mr.  Walsh,  Mrs.  Clay,  and  Mr.  Parish.  He  will 
there  await  my  coming.  I  fear  you  have  a  sad  time  of  it  at 
Roanoke.  You  said  nothing  to  me  of  your  sister,  or  cousin: 
particularly  of  your  reception  by  the  latter;  and  scarcely 


124  LETTERS  OF 

any  thing  of  my  sister,  who  mentions  you  with  much  inte 
rest.     In  haste. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  LXXXIX. 

Georgetown,  June  5,  1812. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

You  are  not  the  first  of  my  correspondents  whom  my 
inveterate  habit  of  scribbling  has  induced  to  suppose  that  I 
would  continue  to  write  to  them  whether  I  received  any  en 
couragement  to  do  so,  or  not.  At  present,  however,  there 
exist  impediments  to  my  accustomed  readiness  and  punctu 
ality  in  this  respect  which  I  cannot  overcome.  It  gives  me 
great  pleasure  to  hear  that  you  have  regained  your  compo 
sure  of  rnind.  Into  the  causes  which  disturbed  it  I  never 
ventured  to  inquire,  content  to  receive  such  portion  of  your 
confidence  as  you  chose  voluntarily  to  bestow  upon  me. 

The  death  of  poor  Echo  is  a  severe  blow  upon  me.  "I 
ne'er  shall  look  upon  her  like  again."  And,  among  the  in 
ducements  which  I  felt  to  revisit  my  own  comfortless  home, 
it  was  not  the  least  that  I  should  again  see  her,  and  witness 
the  sagacity  and  attachment  of  this  humble  yet  faithful  four- 
footed  friend. 

My  best  love  to  Carter. 

Yours,  affectionately, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Has  Echo  any  offspring  at  Roanoke? 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  125 

LETTER  XC. 

Georgetown,  June  29, 1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  from  Charlotte,  C.  H.,  has  just  reached 
me.  I  regret  very  much  that  I  have  had  it  so  little  in  my 
power  to  write  to  you  since  your  return  home;  but  my  hands 
are  full,  and  my  vigour  wasted.  It  is  with  extreme  difficulty 
that  I  can  summon  resolution  and  find  time  to  do  the  drud 
gery  to  which  I  am  tied  down. 

I  shall  address  this  to  Bizarre,  and  I  beg  of  you  to  excuse 
me  to  your  cousin  and  St.  George  for  not  writing.  Tudor 
is  now  in  Philadelphia.  He  is  highly  delighted  with  your 
friend  Mr.  Walsh;  who  speaks  of  you  as  you  could  wish. 
I  don't  know  whether  I  told  you  that  Dr.  Sim  called  to  pay 
his  respects  to  you  the  day  after  j^ou  left  us.  I  went  to  the 
island,  and  found  that  our  invitation  had  been  given  for  the 
preceding  Sunday.  We  shall  adjourn  on  Monday  next,  so 
say  our  masters. 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  XCI. 

Friday  Night,  Nov.  19, 1812. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  RECEIVED  your  short  letter  this  evening,  and  an  im 
pertinent  one  from  Palmer,  by  the  same  post.  I  fear  I 
shall  have  to  go  home,  for  he  threatens  to  leave  my  planta 
tion,  because  "I  am  too  tight  with  him;"  that  is,  I  will  not 


126  LETTERS  OF 

permit  him  to  encroach  beyond  the  terms  of  my  contract  with 
him. 

You  have,  perhaps,  done  right  in  taking  the  tickets  of  all 
the  professors.  It  is,  no  doubt,  a  propitiatory  step  towards 
them;  but,  I  do  hope,  that  you  will  not  run  the  risk  of  in- 
juring^your  health  in  attending  them.  You  say  nothing  upon 
that  topic.  What  is  Dr.  Physick's,  or  Wistar's  opinion  of 
your  case?  You  are  silent,  also,  respecting  Mrs.  Clay,  Mr. 
Walsh,  Dr.  Chapman,  &c.?  How  is  Randolph  ?  I  wrote  to 
you  last  evening.  The  night  was  a  night  of  horrors  to  me. 
I  had  a  severe  sore  throat,  fever  and  pains  in  every  limb  and 
joint.  Half  an  hour's  disturbed  sleep  was  my  portion.  To-day 
I  am  better,  far  better;  but  clearly  discern  gout  in  my  feet. 
They  are  painful,  tumidj  and  red,  especially  the  great  toes. 

I  am  glad  to  tell  you  that  Tudor  has  done  himself  credit 
at  Cambridge.  He  stands  high  in  the  opinion  of  the  pro 
fessors,  as  well  for  his  deportment,  as  his  literary  acquire 
ments,  and  love  of  study. 

It  has  blown  a  gale  from  every  point  of  the  compass,  (ex 
cept  south,)  since  you  left  us.     Hard  clouds — spitting  snow 
and  sleet — weather  that  one  would  expect  in  Spitzbergen; 
not  in  latitude  39°.     I  have  not  been  to  the  house,  and  scarce 
ly  out  of  the  house  since  you  left  us. 
Yours, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

My  compliments  to  Dr.  Chapman.  Tell  him  that  I  would 
give  him  some  memoires  pour  servir,  &c.,  if  I  had  an  ama 
nuensis. 

Do  not  forget  that  the  perfection  of  the  epistolary  art 
consists  in  omitting  all  mention  of  incidents  in  one's  letters. 

Present  me,  respectfully,  to  Mr.  Walsh,  Mr.  Hare,  Mr. 
Meredith,  Mr.  Binney,  and  Mr.  Dallas,  if  he  be  of  your  ac 
quaintance. 

Good  night!  good  night. 

Beverley  R.  has  distinguished  himself  at  Queenstown. 


JOHN  KANDOLrH,  127 


LETTER  XCII. 

Thursday,  Nov.  19,  1812. 

RHEUMATISM — sore  throat,  and  fever,  have  been  my 
companions  since  you  left  me.  I  have  not  been  once  to  the 
house;  scarcely  written  a  single  line.  I  wished  to  have 
written  to  dear  Mrs.  Clay  on  the  subject  of  Randolph,  but 
have  not  had  spirits  and  resolution  enough  to  throw  my 
thoughts  on  paper.  It  is  a  sad  subject,  and  recalls  mournful 
recollections.  You  can,  doubtless,  insinuate  to  her  my  wishes 
to  have  him  as  soon  as  she  can  bring  herself  to  part  from 
him:  the  sooner  the  better,  for  any  advantage  which  he  may 
derive  from  my  tuition.  My  best  regards  to  Mr.  Walsh. 
Mention  me  in  the  kindest  manner  to  dear  Mrs.  Clay  and 
her  family;  also,  to  every  one  that  knows  and  inquires  after 
me.  Good  night  I  must  to  bed. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  XCIII. 

Georgetown,  Nov.  27, 1812, 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WAS  highly  gratified  this  evening,  on  my  return  from 
dining  with  Mr.  Frank  Key,  to  find  your  letter  of  the  23d? 
(post-marked  the  25th.)  I  am  glad  to  tell  you  that,  since  my 
late  acute  attack,  when  the  morbid  matter,  whatever  it  be,  set 
tled  in  my  feet,  I  have  been  quite  anew  man.  For  the  first 
time,  during  many  months,  my  mind  has  been  relieved  from 
an  oppression  which  has  clouded  and  impaired  all  my  facul- 


LETTERS  OF 

ties.  The  effects  have,  no  doubt,  been  felt  by  those  who  have 
been  placed  in  contact  with  me,  (as  well  as  by  myself,)  al 
though  they  have,  probably,  been  unable  to  make  due  allow 
ance  for  the  malady  by  which  I  have  been  afflicted. 

I  hope  you  will  follow  Dr.  Chapman's  advice,  and  never 
cease  to  remember  that,  in  order  to  qualify  yourself  for  heal 
ing  others,  it  is  of  primary  necessity  that  you,  yourself, 
should  be  sane  in  body,  as  well  as  mind.  I  am  greatly 
obliged  to  Dr.  Chapman;  I  cannot  say  for  his  recollection  of 
me,  for  he  never  knew  me;  but,  for  thinking  of  me  so  often, 
and  so  favourably — I  must  add,  so  partially,  also. 

Present  me,  most  respectfully  and  affectionately,  to  Mrs. 
Clay,  and  tell  her  that  I  accept  the  trust  which  she  has  so  ge 
nerously  confided  to  me,  with  a  proper  sense  of  its  import 
ance.  I  hope,  indeed,  that  it  may  be  as  she  expects,  "  that 
Randolph  will  receive  much  benefit  from  my  tuition."  I 
know  that,  in  many  respects,  I  am  less  qualified  for  such  a 
task,  than  when  I  undertook  the  instruction  of  yourself  and 
Tudor;  but  of  this  I  am  equally  confident,  that  no  exertion 
shall  be  wanting,  on  my  part,  to  render  him  worthy  of  her, 
and  an  honour  to  the  memory  of  that  other  dear  friend,  to 
whom  he  owes  his  being. 

I  took  advantage  of  the  parliamentary  holiday,  yesterday, 
to  enjoy  the  diversion  of  shooting.  I  killed  one  brace  of 
woodcocks  and  two  of  partridges — missing  only  two  shots; 
both  on  horse-back.  Your  favourite  Sancho  did  not  distin 
guish  himself,  being  quite  eclipsed  by  Dido.  I  fear  he  will 
lose  his  eye.  St.  George  writes  that  woodcocks  are  uncom 
monly  numerous,  and  that  he  has  killed  two.  Your  sister 
was  well. 

Did  I  tell  you  that  I  sent  Jupiter  home  from  Fredericks- 
burg  ?  I  miss  him  very  much.  Mr.  Charles  Sterrett  Ridge- 
ly  arrived  here  last  night,  to  my  great  joy.  He  desires  his 
respects  to  you.  I  received  a  letter,  since  I  commenced 
this,  from  Mr.  Parish.  He  is  at  Ogdensburgh,  but  will  be  in 
Philadelphia,  about  the  first  of  January. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  129 

My  best  regards  to  Mr.  Walsh.     I  shall  write  again  short 
ly;  probably  by  to-morrow's  mail. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
Mr.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  XCIV. 

Georgetown,  Nov.  28, 

ACCORDING  to  the  intimation  in  my  last,  I  took  the  field 
to-day — but  my  friend  Mr.  Charles  Sterrett  Ridgely  was  un 
able  to  accompany  me;  having  been  better  employed  in 
placing  Mr.  Luf  borough's  son,  (the  young  man  wha  was  at 
Carlisle,)  in  an  eligible  berth  on  board  the  Constellation.  It 
was  a  blank  day  with  me.  I  went  out  late,  having  waited 
for  Mr.  Ridgely;  and  although  Dido  behaved  to  admiration, 
I  killed  nothing  except  two  unqualified  sportsmen,  a  large 
owl,  and  a  poaching  cat.  I  moved  several  woodcocks,  shot 
twice  at  very  unfavourable  chances,  and  returned  to  an 
early  dinner.  As  this  letter  will  be  postage  free,  I  have 
less  compunction  in  taxing  you  with  it 

I  shall  write  again  to-morrow,  and  trouble  you  with  some 
commissions. 

Yours,  most  affectionately, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 

MR.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

17 


130  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  XCV. 

Dec.  12, 1812. 
DEAR  THEOPORE, 

IN  conformity  with  your  request,  I  write  merely  to 
inform  you  that  I  am  greatly  better — although  far  from  well. 
My  feet,  my  head,  and  stomach  antagonize,  (if  I  may  so 
speak,)  like  a  flexor  and  extensor  muscle.  I  am  sorry  to 
hear  of  your  cough.  Is  it  the  effect  of  cold,  or  of  some 
obstruction  of  the  liver? 

My  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Clay,  and  the  children.     Why 
do  you  say  nothing  of  them? 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

The  Potomac  closed  the  night  before  last.     Mr.  Stanford 
desires  to  be  remembered  to  you. 


LETTER  XCVI. 

Dec.  17, 1812. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

HAVING  seen  myself  in  the  portfolio,  I  have  no 
longer  any  wish  to  possess  a  copy;  and  I  really  regret  that 
you  lent  the  miniature  for  the  purpose  of  having  it  so  wretch 
edly  engraved.  Had  I  been  consulted,  I  would  have  put 
my  veto  upon  the  "projet."  At  the  same  time,  do  not  un 
derstand  me  as  expressing  censure  at  your  compliance  with 
Dr.  C 's  request — I  do  not  know  how  you  could  have 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  131 

refused.     You  might  have  said — "  I  will  consult  my  uncle, 
and  if  he  has  no  objection,  &c." 

I  am  better,  and  trust  you  are  so;  though  I  have  sometimes 
apprehensions,  as  I  do  not  hear  from  you.  Three  lines  would 
do.  A  word,  at  the  same  time,  of  Mrs.  Clay:  her  situation, 
her  spirits,  children,  &c.  Adieu, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  XCVII. 

December  18,  1812. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  the  enclosed  from  poor  St.  George, 
under  cover  of  a  letter  to  myself.  Want  of  some  one  to  com 
municate  with  is  evidently  impairing  his  knowledge  of  the 
language.  His  letters  to  me,  of  late,  are  hardly  intelligible; 
some  parts  of  them  quite  so.  He  complains  that  his  brother 
does  not  write  to  him.  I  fear  he  will  lose  the  faculty  of  ex 
pressing  his  thoughts  on  paper,  if  no  one  takes  the  trouble  to 
correct  him.  Alas!  "  prayers  are  not  morality,"  nor  "  kneel 
ing  religion. "  What  a  perversion  to  suppose  austerity,  sour 
ness,  gloom,  indifference  to  the  welfare  of  those  whom  we 
ought  to  love,  (if  we  can  love  any  thing,}  that  these  recom 
mend  us  to  the  Divine  Author  of  that  religion,  which  teaches 
us  to  love  our  neighbour  as  ourself;  to  bless  them  that  curse 
us — whose  very  essence  is  benevolence  and  good  will  towards 
man! 

I  must  go  to  the  house.     Good  b'ye. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Have  you  read  Leigh's  Memoirs?     Probably  you  have  not 


132  LETTERS  OF 

leisure;  but  I  beg  of  you  to  read  the  note  in  page  341,  of  vo 
lume  2d. — The  friendship  of  Washington  forfeited  by  negli 
gence. 


LETTER  XCVIII. 

Georgetown,  Jan.  1, 1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  last  letter  has  afforded  relief  from  some  anxiety 
which  I  had  begun  to  feel,  on  your  account.  That  by  Mr. 
Weir  has  not  yet  come  to  hand.  I  made  but  a  very  short 
stay  with  my  friend,  Mr.  Charles  Sterrett  Ridgely — whose 
hospitable  mansion  I  left  on  Monday  last.  Exposure  to  cold 
brought  on  ague,  and  something  very  like  cholera  morbus, 
I  have  seldom  suffered  more  than  I  did  on  that  night,  after 
reaching  my  lodgings.  I  write  these  few  lines  merely  that 
you  may  not  suppose  that  I  think  you  neglectful  of  me,  as 
your  letter  seems  to  intimate. 

Do  not  forget  to  call  on  Mr.  Parish,  who,  by  this  time,  is 
in  Philadelphia;  and  commend  me  to  Mrs.  Clay,  and  all 
friends. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  133 

LETTER  XCIX. 

Saturday,  Jan.  9, 1813. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

OUR  friend,  Dr.  Logan,  will  bear  this  letter.  I  in 
tended  to  have  sent  you  a  remittance  of  $200,  by  this  very 
safe  conveyance;  but,  having  only  notes  of  one  of  the  late 
banks  incorporated  here,  I  shall  call  at  the  Bank  of  Columbia, 
on  Monday  or  Tuesday  next,  and  obtain  a  draft  on  their  cor 
respondent  bank  in  Philadelphia,  for  that  sum.  Let  me  know, 
as  early  as  possible,  how  much  more  your  occasions  will  call 
for,  that  it  may  be  supplied  in  due  time;  and,  also,  when  you 
can  leave  Philadelphia,  after  graduating. 

Dr.  Logan  complains  that  he  has  not  seen  you  at  Stenton. 
You  ought  not  to  neglect  cultivating  so  valuable  an  acquaint 
ance. 

Yours,  most  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
Mr.  DUDLEY, 


LETTER  C. 

Georgetown,  Friday,  Feb.  5, 1813. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  you  a  hasty  letter  yesterday,  from  which 
you  may  infer  that  I  meditated  placing  Randolph  immedi 
ately  at  school.  When  I  spoke  of  "  his  being  separated  from 
me,"  I  referred  to  the  time  when  he  should  attain  a  proper 
age  to  be  placed  at  school.  You  know  the  savage  solitude 
in  which  I  live;  into  which  I  have  been  driven  to  seek  skel- 


134  LETTERS  OF 

ter.  I  feel  that  it  will  be  but  a  sad  change  to  this  poor 
child,  and,  perhaps,  a  situation  not  entirely  suited  to  his 
age,  &c. 

I  feel  much  at  a  loss  how  to  act.  Now,  tell  me  something 
of  your  own  intentions  and  wishes,  as  to  future  pursuits  and 
prospects  in  life.  Speak  to  me  as  to  a  friend,  whose  chief 
motive  is  the  fartherance  of  your  own  welfare.  I  have 
thought  of  Richmond  as  not  an  ineligible  position  for  you; 
but  only  thought  of  it. 

Pray  give  me  the  earliest  information  of  Mr.  Parish's  ar 
rival  at  Philadelphia;  and  do  not  fail  to  keep  watch  for  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  G.,  and  present  the  enclosed.  They  will  reach 
Baltimore  to-day,  and  will,  probably,  be  in  Philadelphia 
about  this  day  week:  perhaps  earlier.  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
dining  with  Mr.  Walsh  about  ten  days  ago.  He  spoke  of 
you  with  great  regard. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

Best  regards  to  Messrs.  P.  and  W. 


LETTER  CI. 

House  of  Representatives,  Tuesday,  Feb.  9, 1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

BY  the  time  that  this  letter  can  reach  you,  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  G.  will,  probably,  be  approaching  Philadelphia.  They 
have  .left  Baltimore,  and  intend  to  go  via  Columbia  and  Lan 
caster.  I  am  extremely  desirous  that  they  should  not  pass 
through  Philadelphia  without  your  seeing  them.  Should 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  135 

this,  unfortunately,  happen, — pray  enclose  my  letter  to  Mr. 
G.  Mr.  Alexander  Walker,  of  that  city,  can  give  you  his 
address. 

Your  letters  by  Mr.  W.  have  never  made  their  appear 
ance.  Indeed,  I  hardly  hear  any  thing  from  you.  Tu 
dor  was  well  a  few  days  ago.  He  has  returned  to  Cam 
bridge. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanake. 


LETTER  CIL 

Feb.  9, 1813. 
Mr  DEAK  THEODORE, 

LIEUTENANT  COLONEL  SCOTT  (the  friend  of  Mr.  Wat- 
kins  Leigh)  will  hand  you  this  letter.  It  is  written  exclu 
sively  for  the  purpose  of  giving  you  the  pleasure  of  his  ac 
quaintance;  for  which  you  must  consider  yourself  as  my 
debtor. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
MR.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

I  wrote  to  you  this  morning,  by  maiL 


136:  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CIIL 

Wednesday,  Feb.  10, 1813. 

10  at  night. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

MR.  JOHN  V  AFGHAN,  of  Philadelphia,  can  inform 
you  of  Mr.  Gore's  address.  I  am  extremely  desirous  that 
you  should  become  known  to  him,  and  to  Mrs.  Gore.  Pre 
sent  me,  most  respectfully,  to  them  both;  and  mention  my 
wishes  on  this  head.  I  hear  nothing  from,  or  of  you. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Tell  Mrs.  G.  that  her  friends,  the  Goldsboroughs,  are 
quite  well;  that  Miss  Anna  Maria  is  as  beautiful  as  ever, 
and  Mr.  Bleecker  more  cheerful  than  I  ever  saw  him.  Mrs* 
Horsey,  with  whom  I  dined  to-day,  and  Mrs.  Bayard,  enjoy 
their  usually  good  health,  good  humour,  and  good  spirits;  but 
Washington  is  a  dreary  place,  nevertheless* 


LETTER  CIV. 

Washington,  Feb.  11, I8I& 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  8th  reached  me  at  a  late  hour  last 
night.  I  have  no  idea  of  placing  Randolph  at  school  now, 
nor  for  several  years  to  come;  but  when  the  time  should  ar 
rive,  would  prefer  (cseteris  paribus)  putting  him  within 
reach  of  his  mother  and  friends. 

I  beg  to  hear  from  you  more  at  full  on  the  subject  of  your 
P.  S. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  137 

I  have  just  learned  that  Mr.  and  Mrs.  G.  were  in  Balti 
more  on  Tuesday,  the  9th.  I  hope  you  will  not  miss  them 
in  their  passage  through  Philadelphia:  you  are  good  at  a 
flying  shot. 

JOHN  RANDOLPEL 

I  am  crippled  with  sciatic. 

The  skeleton  of  the  speech  has  been  mounted  by  some 
bungler  who  knows  nothing  of  political  osteology.  I  feel 
ashamed  of  myself — not  only  stripped  of  my  muscle,  but 
my  very  bones  disjointed. 


LETTER  CV. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  18,  1813. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

SINCE  the  receipt  of  your  concise  letter  of  the  12th, 
I  have  been  on  the  verge  of  the  grave,  from  one  of  those 
sudden  and  incomprehensible  attacks,  to  which  my  family 
are  subject. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  G.  returned  to  Washington  on  Monday  last: 
after  being  detained  ten  days  in  Baltimore,  despairing  of  be 
ing  able  to  cross  the  Susquehannah,  they  made  a  retrograde 
movement,  to  the  great  joy  of  their  numerous  acquaintances 
here.     Pray  inquire  of  Mr.  Parish  if  he  received  a  letter 
from  me,  in  answer  to  his  from  Philadelphia.     I  sent  him, 
also,  Messrs.  Quincy  and  Emott's  speeches. 
I  am  yet  sore  and  iveak. 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
MR.  T.  BLAND  DUDLEY. 

IS 


138  LETTERS  OF 

The  letter  by  Mr.  Weir  has  never  reached  me.  My  best 
respects  to  Mr.  Walsh,  when  you  see  him.  Say  every  thing 
proper  to  Mrs.  C.,  and  give  my  love  to  Randolph. 


LETTER  CVI. 

Fredericksburg,  March  5,  1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  to  you  yesterday,  from  Georgetown,  en 
closing  a  draft  of  the  Bank  of  Columbia  on  the  Bank  of 
Pennsylvania  for  two  hundred  dollars.  As  soon  as  you  can 
leave  Philadelphia,  I  shall  expect  you  in  Virginia.  Let  me 
know,  that  I  may  send  horses  to  meet  you  in  Richmond,  and 
address  your  letter  to  FarmviHe.  I  regret  that  I  have  heard 
so  little  from  you  of  late;  for  the  letter  by  Mr.  Weir  never 
came  to  hand.  I  reached  this  place  about  an  hour  ago,  half 
dead  with  fatigue  and  rheumatism,  with  which  I  have  been 
tortured  beyond  measure,  during  the  latter  part  of  the  win 
ter;  especially  the  last  ten  days.  I  left  Mr.  and  Mrs.  G.  in 
Washington.  They  will,  probably,  reach  Philadelphia  in 
the  course  of  a  week  from  this  time,  and  will  be  in  your 
neighbourhood.  I  trust  that  you  will  see  them.  I  expect 
Randolph  with  you.  My  best  regards  to  Mrs.  Clay.  I  want 
to  write  to  her,  but  cannot  at  present. 

I  met  Mr.  Stanford  here:  he  desires  his  respects  to  you. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  139 

LETTER  CVII. 

Bowling  Green,  March  8, 1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

FORTUNATELY  for  me,  I  changed  my  purpose  of  pro 
ceeding  through  the  desert,  to  Carter's  ferry.  Between  Todd's 
and  this  place,  I  was  nearly  mad  with  pain,  and,  when  I  got 
here,  was  glad  enough  to  remain.  The  next  day  (yesterday) 
it  snowed  and  rained  incessantly,  and  this  day  must  have  emi 
grated  from  the  north-west  coast  of  Scotland.  I  think  it 
doubtful  whether  1  shall  be  able  to  get  even  to  Prince  Ed 
ward  Court;  and  my  essay  was  to  have  reached  Buckingham. 

Tell  Mrs.  G.  (when  you  see  her)  that  I  have  been  thinking 
of  her  ever  since  I  left  Georgetown;  pondering  on  the  diffi 
culties  of  her  journey,  and  "  guessing,"  according  to  the  New 
England  fashion,  "  whether  she  would  leave  Washington  to 
day  or  to-morrow;  if  she  had  reached  Baltimore;  and  how 
long  she  would  stay  there;  and  when  she  would  arrive  in  Phi 
ladelphia?"  &c. 

As  soon  as  the  weather  will  permit,  I  shall  go  on  to  Rich 
mond  in  Mr.  Hoomes's  carriage.  1  wish,  very  much,  to  see 

you. 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
MR.  THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  CVIII. 

Richmond,  March  10, 1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  LEFT  the  Bowling  Green  yesterday,  after  breakfast, 
and,  thanks  to  the  politeness  of  Mr.  Hoomes,  was  enabled  to 


140  LETTERS  OF 

reach  Richmond  about  seven  o'clock.  My  delay  there  was 
not  entirely  unproductive  of  good,  for  I  had  the  pleasure  of 
passing  the  day,  on  Monday,  with  Mr.  Garnett;  who  came 
to  Caroline  Court,  in  the  hope  of  seeing  some  of  his  old  ac 
quaintances,  on  their  way  to  the  south.  The  road,  from  the 
Bowling  Green  here,  is  worse  than  I  ever  saw  it;  indeed,  the 
weather  has  been  wretchedly  bad  since  Saturday.  What 
must  the  effect  have  been  on  the  road  farther  north,  which  I 
thought  had  already  reached  their  ultimatum  ?  This  re 
flection  has  been  uppermost  in  my  mind  for  several  days  past, 
and  gives  me  much  uneasiness  respecting  Mrs.  G.  I  pray 
you  to  let  me  hear  of  her  safe  arrival  in  Philadelphia,  as  soon 
as  possible.  You  have  been  upon  a  restrictive  system,  of 
late. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.  ask  kindly  after  you. 
My  best  respects  to  Mr.  Parish. 


LETTER  CIX. 

Farmville,  April  16,  1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

ON  returning  here  yesterday,  I  found  your  three  let 
ters,  of  the  2d  and  30th  of  March,  from  Philadelphia,  and  of 
the  5th  of  this  month,  from  Georgetown.  I  hasten  to  send 
Jupiter  for  you,  and  must  not  omit  a  message  of  Dr.  Ran 
dolph,  requesting  you  to  call  on  him  as  you  come  up. 

You  will  have  learned,  before  this  reaches  you,  that,  so  far 
from  "triumphing  over  my  enemies,"  as  you  anticipated, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  141 

they  are  triumphing  over  me:  a  triumph  which,  for  my  coun 
try's  sake,  I  deeply  regret;  but  which  has  no  power  to  shake 
the  firmness  of  my  purpose,  or  to  disturb  the  serenity  of  my 
mind.  It  releases  me  from  an  odious  thraldom,  and,  I  assure 
you,  my  dear  Theodore,  I  have  thought,  and  yet  think,  much 
more  of  the  charming  Mrs.  G.  than  of  the  election.  The  low 
and  base  arts  to  which  my  adversaries  have  resorted,  have 
not  raised  them,  or  sunk  me  in  my  own  esteem. 

My  best  regards  to  Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.,  and  to  Ryland.  Ask 
him  about  my  shirts:  I  am  half  naked:  and  bring  up  my 
boots,  left  at  his  house. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MB.  DUDLEY. 

You  have  not  mentioned  whether  or  not  you  have  gra 
duated. 


LETTER  CX. 

Bizarre,  March  15,  1813, 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  LEFT  Dr.  Randolph's  yesterday  morning,  and 
reached  this  place  about  five  o'clock.  He  requests  that  you 
will  call  upon  him  on  your  way  home,  and  pressed  me  to 
mention  it  to  you  not  as  an  ordinary  matter  of  course  invi 
tation. 

I  went  to-day  to  Prince  Edward  Court,  and  found  the 
good  people  of  that  county  as  cordial  to  me  as  ever.  Their 
countenances  spoke  the  feeling  of  their  hearts  towards  me. 

It  is  possible  that  Mrs.  G.  may  not  have  left  Philadelphia. 
Do  not  forget  to  speak  to  her  of  me;  to  recall  me  to  her  re 
collection — although,  I  trust,  that  is  unnecessary.  Tell  her 


142  LETTERS  OF 

that  I  shall  feel  eternally  obliged  to  my  friend  Mercer  for 
the  fidelity  with  which  he  executed  my  request.  In  short, 
be  as  much  with  her  as  possible,  that  when  we  meet,  we 
may  talk  of  her,  and  that  you  may  comprehend  her  excel 
lence. 

Yours,  always, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Your  sister  is  much  grown,  and  quite  well;  so  is  St. 
George. 

I  have  read  Mr.  Mercer's  letter  a  hundred  times.  No 
wonder  it  was  entirely  on  the  subject  of  Mrs.  G. 


LETTER  CXI. 

September,  1813. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

MISUNDERSTANDING  and  misconception,  even  between 
those  who  reside  under  the  same  roof,  are,  from  whatever 
cause,  the  fruitful  source  of  misery  to  the  best  of  friends. 
What,  then,  may  they  not  effect,  among  persons  less  attached 
to  each  other  than  I  know  myself  to  be  to  you,  or  than  I 
believe  you  to  be  to  me?  Do  not  misconstrue  me,  whatever 
you  may  observe  in  my  conduct  or  observations  before 
others. 

You  cannot  oblige  me  so  much  as  by  thinking  yourself  to 
stand  to  me  in  the  relation  of  a  favoured  son,  and  by  acting 
as  master  in  my  house,  and  on  my  estate,  on  every  occasion, 
where  your  own  pleasure  or  a  regard  to  my  interest  may 
prompt  you  so  to  do.  When  you  were  young,  and  I  was 
of  opinion  that  it  might  be  injurious  to  your  future  charac 
ter  or  fortunes  to  encourage  such  views,  I  sedulously  re- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  143 

pressed  them.  Your  character  is  now  formed.  Consider 
yourself,  then,  as  not  less  entitled  to  command  here,  than 
if  you  were  the  child  of  my  loins,  as  you  are  the  son  of  my 
affections.  In  repressing  the  forwardness  of  others  I  may 
have  repelled  you.  Understand  me  and  my  feelings,  and 
we  shall  never  misconceive  each  other.  I  wish  most  fer 
vently  to  see  you  in  a  situation  more  worthy  of  your  merit, 
and  1  hope  I  shall  yet  live  to  see  it.  Until  then,  take  this 
hint.  It  is  enough  if  you  enter  into  my  feelings — too  much 
if  you  do  not. 

Yours,  affectionately, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  CXII. 

Farrmille,  Saturday,  Nov.  6,  1813. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

JUPITER  got  down  here,  last  night,  with  your  letter. 
1  do  not  wonder  that  he  forgot  your  books  when  he  returned 
without  what  I  chiefly  sent  him  for — my  dirk,  pocket  pis 
tols,  goggles,  and  best  coat,  with  dress  shoes,  and  gaiters. 

Pray  speak  to  John  Garritt  to  come  down  here  and  build  a 
house  for  St.  George.  He  wishes  it  to  be  set  about  as  soon 
as  possible.  Garritt  must  leave  at  Roanoke  all  the  tools  he 
found  there,  and  such  as  I  have  purchased  since.  Phil  and 
Morocco  can  do  what  work  I  want,  until  poor  St.  George  gets 
a  shelter  over  his  head. 

If  a  GOOD  opportunity  offers,  be  so  good  as  to  send  me  the 
things  above  named,  with  my  father's  picture,  and  three  lock 
ets;  they  are  in  my  writing-table  drawer.  I  shall  direct  Jem 
my  to  bring  up  some  herd's  grass  seed,  from  Mr.  Wm.  L. 
Morton's,  which  I  wish  sprinkled  over  the  new  meadow,  and, 


144  LETTERS  OF 

if  any  left,  over  the  old.     Let  Billy  and  Ned  join  the  axe 
men  at  Hog  Island. 

Jupiter  also  forgot  Mr.  Garritt's  saddle.  If  the  post-boy 
cannot  carry  it,  I  will  send  it  by  the  wagon. 

I  fear  you  have  a  sad  time  of  it.  Tell  Pentecost  he  can 
have  the  accommodation  he  asks,  in  respect  to  the  goods.  I 
hope  he  sent  down  Ryland's  horse. 

I  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  to  put  one  of  the  three 
years'  old  colts,  with  a  steady,  dull  horse,  to  break  up  the 
pasture. 

B.  Woodson,  Redford,  and  myself,  are  going  a  cocking  in 
Nash's  low  grounds.  I  will  keep  my  letter  open  until 
we  return.  I  killed  a  duck  in  Mr.  Dupuy's  mill-pond,  on 
Monday  evening,  and  three  partridges  and  a  cock,  on  Thurs 
day,  at  Bizarre.  Game  is  very  scarce.  Send  me  a  memo 
randum,  by  the  post,  of  such  things  as  you  want,  as  well  a& 
overseers  and  carpenters. 

Farewell,  dear  Theodorick. 

Your  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 

It  is  not  possible  to  write  tolerably  with  such  tools. 

Pray  teach  Dash  and  Clio  to  fetch.  W.  Randolph,  from  a 
thorn  wound  in  the  knee,  has  a  dreadful  abscess  formed;  for 
a  fortnight  his  life  was  in  great  danger.  Dr.  I.  now  thinks 
his  limb  may  be  saved. 

Not  a  cock  found  in  Wash's  famous  grounds.  No  wonder. 
Plenty  of  hogs,  oxen,  and  horses. 

Found  two  woodcocks  in  a  branch;  killed  both.  The  se 
cond  after,  Woodson  missed;  also,  a  brace  of  partridges.  St 
George,  one  woodcock.  Woodson  and  Redford,  not  a  feather. 
Game  very  scarce.  Left  the  puppy  at  home.  Dido  behaved 
to  admiration.  Woodson  and  Redford's  guns  are  more  than  a 
quarter  of  a  pound  heavier  than  mine. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  H5 


LETTER  CXIII. 

Richmond,  Thursday  Night,  Nov.  25,  1813. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WAS  highly  gratified,  to-day,  by  your  letter  of  the 
21st;  for,  yesterday,  the  post-office  would  not  condescend  to 
afford  me  that  pleasure.  I  wish  you  had  touched,  however 
slightly,  some  of  the  topics  of  my  last.  You  will  readily 
guess  (as  the  Yankees  say)  those  to  which  I  refer.  On  far 
ther  reflection,  I  am  really  sorry  that  we  resolved  to  break  up 
the  pasture.  The  natives  here  (imported,  as  well  as  indi 
genous,)  have  no  conception  of  such  a  turf  as  that  which  re 
quires  four  horses  to  cut  the  sod,  with  a  coulter;  and  I  believe 
(for  I  did  not  hazard  your  name  or  veracity)  that  they  sus 
pected  me  of  that  vice,  to  which  (according  to  honest  Jack 
Falstaff )  all  this  world  is  given.  I  really  doubt  the  policy, 
under  "  existing  circumstances,"  of  destroying  this  turf,  which 
is  impregnable  to  the  "  hoof  and  the  tooth."  I  forgot  to  tell 
Jemmy  to  call  at  Wm.  L.  Morton's  for  the  herd's  grass  seed. 
Pray  send  there  for  it,  and  have  it  scattered  on  the  new  mea 
dow.  It  was  not  my  fault,  however,  that  he  did  not  bring 
Garritt's  saddle;  for  Mrs.  R.  and  St.  George  both  promised 
that  it  should  not  be  neglected,  and  I  left  it  at  Farmville  on 
purpose. 

Why  did  you  say  nothing  of  Garritt's  disposition  to  build 
at  Bizarre?  As  you  are  now  a  man  of  business,  let  me  sug 
gest  to  you  that  a  letter,  acknowledging  the  receipt  of  ano 
ther,  is  not,  necessarily,  (logice,}  an  answer  to  it; — (by  the 
way,  you  have  not  acknowledged  the  receipt  of  mine.)  Look 
over  your  letters  when  you  write.  Reply  to  the  points  of 
moment;  and  superadd  what  you  please,  whether  of  business, 
humour,  or  sentiment — although,  with  Sir  Peter  Teazle,  I 
say,  "damn  sentiment:"  but  not  the  sentiment  of  an  unso 
phisticated  heart  like  yours,  my  son.  I  thank  you  and  Colo 
nel  Morton  on  the  subject  of  the  sheep.  Tell  him  so;  and  I 

19 


146  LETTERS  OF 

wish  that  you  had  taught  Beazley  by  precept,  rather  than  ex 
ample,  to  use  his  own  hands. 

Cannot  you  meet  me  here,  or  on  the  road? — say  Farmville 
or  Amelia.  You  know  not  how  much  you  are  prized  by 
those  who  know  you  only  as  an  acquaintance.  Can  you 
wonder  then,  my  dear  Theodore,  at  the  value,  which  I,  who 
know  you,  aufond,  set  upon  you. 

Good  night,  and  may  every  blessing  attend  you. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

I  have  heard  from  Dr.  Robinson.  He  is  reasonably  well; 
unchanged  in  heart.  Mr.  L.  is  gone  to  Berkeley.  I  guess 
that  he  will  bring  Mrs.  L.  home  with  him.  Pray  come 
down,  if  convenient  and  agreeable. 


LETTER  CXIV. 

Bank  of  Virginia,  Dec.  30, 1813. 
My  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  26th.  The 
connexion  which  has  so  long  subsisted  between  us,  and  which 
nothing  but  death  can  dissolve,  renders  all  profession,  on  ei 
ther  side,  not  only  unnecessary,  but  improper;  even  although 
we  did  not  agree  with  the  worthy  Baronet,  in  "damning 
all  sentiment."  Feeling  towards  you  as  a  father,  I  natu 
rally  expect  you  to  act  towards  me  as  a  son.  As  to  the  word 
gratitude,  let  it  be  expunged  from  our  vocabulary.  I  must 
not,  however,  be  debarred  the  pleasure  of  expressing  some 
times  my  sense  of  the  aid  and  comfort  which  I  derive  from 
you;  at  the  expense,  I  know,  of  your  interest,  and,  in  many 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  147 

instances,  I  fear,  of  your  feelings.  Do  not  misunderstand  me: 
I  mean  that  such  a  life  as  you  must  lead  at  Roanoke,  is  un- 
suited  to  your  character  and  disposition,  and,  therefore,  I  am 
anxious  that  you  should  remove  to  this  (or  some  other)  town. 

Pray  look  at  my  first  memorandum,  by  Jupiter.  Among  the 
enumerated  articles,  I  remember  my  blue  coat  and  goggles: 
the  surtout  I  do  not  want;  but  my  clothes  from  Gibb's,  (the 
tailor  at  the  C.  H.,)  I  do. 

I  wish  you,  with  St.  George,  to  select  seven  hands,  of  such 
as  are  willing  to  go,  principally  men  and  boys,  for  Bizarre 
and  Michaux;  of  course,  not  our  prime  ploughmen,  prizers,  &c. 

I  want  the  smith's  shop  put  up  with  all  convenient  des 
patch,  between  Simons  and  Essex's  houses,  near,  or  on,  the 
old  brick  yard;  but  not  so  as  to  stop  a  road  which  I  mean  to 
open  between  the  foot  of  the  hill  and  the  pasture  gate,  pass 
ing  near  both  those  houses. 

I  enclose  a  check  for  $100,  in  favour  of  Garritt.  I  would 
send  the  notes,  but  I  preferred  the  check  as  the  safer  mode; 
so  I  handed  the  notes  to  the  Doctor,  and  drew  for  the  money. 

Adieu!  my  dear  Theodore,  and  believe  me,  as  ever, 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  CXV. 

Bank  of  Virginia,  Dec.  22, 1813. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

You  will,  doubtless,  be  surprised  to  receive  another 
letter  from  me,  written  in  Richmond;  but  you  know  how 
helpless  a  creature  I  am;  and  when  I  tell  you  that  my  man 
Jupiter  has  been  hors  du  combat,  by  a  bad  cut  on  the  leg, 
against  the  "  rock "  (marble  slabs)  on  the  stair-case,  and  by 


148  LETTERS  OF 

an  axe  which  flew  off  the  halve,  as  he  was  splitting  wood,  and 
had  nearly  given  him  his  quietus,  you  may  imagine  that  I 
have  hardly  been  able  to  make  a  shift  for  myself,  even  in 
Richmond. 

By  Quashia  I  send  a  piece  of  blankets,  and  eighteen  pair  of 
stockings,  having  already  given  a  pair  a-piece  to  each  of  the 
wagonners  and  boys.  Give  them  another  pair  a-piece,  and 
distribute  the  other  dozen  as  may  seem  best.  1  send,  also,  a 
bolt  of  Oznaburghs,  out  of  which  furnish  the  wagonners  with 
two  shirts  each,  and  the  boys  the  same;  also,  great  coats  of 
the  No.  5  cottons.  The  remainder  of  the  linen,  and  the 
blankets,  to  be  distributed  to  such  as  most  need.  I  have 
given  little  Henry  one  blanket. 

The  boys  tell  me  that  you  had  not  got  home  when  they  set 
out.  I  enclose  fifty  dollars  for  your  own  use.  If  a  cipher 
were  added  to  the  sum,  it  would  be  a  scanty  compensation 
for  the  services  which  you  have  rendered  me  during  the  past 
year  as  a  professional  man. 

I  will  write  again  by  post. 

Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

All  the  old-fashioned  good  wishes  of  the  season  to  you. 


LETTER  CXVI. 

Richmond,  Jan.  8,  1814. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

QUASHIA  got  down  last  night.  I  was  apprehensive  that 
the  wagons  had  set  out  just  as  the  bad  weather  commenced. 
I  have  been  detained  here  by  a  very  unpleasant  piece  of  bu 
siness,  which  I  hope  to  terminate  to-day.  I  should  have 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  149 

sent  up  the  gun,  but  I  was  really  afraid  that  she  would  be 
injured  by  the  jolting  of  the  wagon.  Ryland  sent  Knowles's 
gun  of  his  own  mere  notion.  I  am  disappointed  at  getting 
no  letter,  or  goggles,  from  you.  The  glare  of  the  snow  puts 
my  eyes  out,  and  I  cannot  get  a  pair  with  green  glasses  in 
town. 

You  will  have  heard  the  news  from  Europe  before  this 
reaches  you.  Advices  from  London,  as  late  as  the  14th  of 
November,  state  that  the  tyrant  had  reached  Mentz,  with 
from  20  to  30,000  of  his  shattered  army.  Of  course,  the 
retreat  by  Erfurth  could  not  have  been  cut  off,  as  is  stated 
in  Sir  Charles  Stewart's  letter  of  October  19th;  that  place 
being  in  the  direct  line  from  Leipzig  to  Mentz — as,  indeed, 
is  Weissenfels  (and  Naumburg,  nearly) — so  that  I  cannot 
very  well  understand  that  part  of  his  despatch  which  relates 
to  the  orders  of  the  King  of  Prussia,  to  detach  in  that  direc 
tion.  I  had  supposed  that,  from  Bonaparte's  taking  the 
route  of  the  Saale,  towards  Brunswick,  he  could  not  strike 
the  Rhine  higher  than  Dusseldorf.  But  you  have  better 
maps  than  are  accessible  to  me,  here.  Read  the  Prince  Re 
gent's  speech  on  opening  parliament,  and  compare  his  digni 
fied  mention  of  this  country,  and  even  of  France,  with  Mr. 
Madison's  rant.  Yet  this  rant  is  well  suited  to  the  meridian 
of  Washington.  I  cannot  conceive  who  it  is  that  writes  the 
speeches  of  the  English  Vitellius — Lord  Liverpool,  most 
probably:  but  1  wish  he  would  lend  his  aid  to  the  Ameri 
can  *  *  *  *  .  These  two  worthy  rulers  seem  to  agree  so 
well  in  their  notions  about  carrying  on  the  war,  that,  per 
chance,  they  might  interchange  speeches  as  well  as  mea 
sures.  Mr.  M.  makes  war  upon  our  commerce,  and  the 
Prince  Regent  seconds  him  by  a  rigorous  blockade.  Mr.  M. 
thinks  it  not  rigorous  enough — that  neutrals  will  elude  it: 
he  gets  himself  created  dictator  by  law,  and  even  neutrals 
are  prohibited  from  carrying  out  of  the  country  one  pound 
of  its  produce.  This  law  is  met,  half  way  on  its  passage 
across  the  Atlantic,  by  a  British  order  in  council,  authorizing 
the  capture  of  all  neutrals  trading  to  the  United  States. 


150  LETTERS  OF 

I  send  you  a  newspaper,  and  little  Echo:  pray  take  care 
of  her. 

In  haste,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bell,  and  the  Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.,  make  kind 
inquiries  after  you. 


LETTER  CXVII. 

Richmond,  Monday,  Jan.  24,  1814. 

From  the  Bank  of  Virginia. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

WITH  their  usual  attention  to  the  public  convenience, 
the  familiars  of  the  post-office  have  changed  the  day  of  ar 
rival  and  departure  of  the  mails.  I  was  apprized  of  this 
fact  by  the  receipt,  this  morning,  of  your  welcome  letter  of 
the  13th,  (post  marked  the  18th;)  the  only  one  which  I  have 
received  from  you  for  several  weeks  past.  I  have  been  too 
long  acquainted  with  the  manoeuvring  of  the  sex,  and  espe 
cially  of  the  lady  in  question,  to  be  surprised  at  what  you  tell 
me:  for  which  of  my  sins  it  is  I  know  not,  that  I  have  sus 
tained  this  long  and  heavy  persecution,  (more  hot  and  gall 
ing  than  the  dreadful  fire  which  killed  nine  of  Gen.  Harri 
son's  mounted  riflemen;)  but  I  humbly  hope  that  the  penance 
will  reduce  the  "  balance  "  against  me  (to  speak  a  la  J^er- 
ginienne)  on  a  final  settlement. 

Bonaparte  has  met  with  another  defeat,  near  Francfort, 
(on  the  Maine,  I  presume,)  and  Lord  Wellington  has,  by 
this  time,  entered  Bayonne.  Pampelune  surrendered  with 
4,500  men.  I  send  you  some  newspapers  by  Beverley,  who 
arrived  on  Friday  night,  and  who  does  not  seem  to  be  in  any 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  151 

very  great  hurry  to  get  home.  He  is  much  pleased  with 
military  life;  and  I  should  not  be  surprised  (if  our  army  were 
on  a  better  footing)  at  his  entering  upon  that  profession. 

William  Leigh  promised  to  call  on  you  as  he  went  home. 
Watkins  Leigh  is  well,  much  fattened,  and  inspirited  by 
matrimony.  Bouldin,  too,  is  here;  a  heavy  draft  from  our 
country  of  abilities  and  integrity. 

Perhaps  you  think  that  I  never  mean  to  go  to  Philadel 
phia,  or  return  home:  and,  indeed,  you  have  cause  to  enter 
tain  such  a  surmise.  I  have  been  detained  here  by  circum 
stances  which,  at  some  future  day,  I  will  explain  to  you. — 
They  are  too  long  for  a  letter. 

Mr.  W.  M.  W.  has  made  up  to  me  a  good  deal  this  win 
ter,  and  speaks  to  certain  persons,  (B ,  Mercer,  Powell, 

&c.,)  in  such  a  way,  as  leaves  no  doubt  of  his  desire  for  a  re 
conciliation.  He  told  P.,  that  my  hauteur  to  him  caused 
him  to  vote  against  me! 

I  fear  I  shall  lose  the  opportunity  of  Beverley;  he  has 
been  missing  ever  since  yesterday  morning.    Keep  a  sharp 
look  out  on  Cambay  and  Beadles. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Mrs.  Bell  went  yesterday  to  Kingston,  Dinwiddie,  to  see 
her  mother,  who  has  been  very  ill  with  a  pleurisy,  but  is 
now  out  of  danger.  Kingston  is  in  the  south-east  part  of 
the  county,  about  twenty-five  miles  from  Petersburgh.  She 
will  return  this  day  week.  Her  sister,  Mrs.  Haxall,  accom 
panied  her.  Miss  Barton  remains  at  "Belmont." 

I  have  letters  from  Bleecker,  Quincy,  Tudor,  and  Rut- 
ledge.  If  I  had  answered  them,  I  should  enclose  them  to 
you;  but  they  poured  in  this  morning,  according  to  the  pro 
verb. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.  salute  you.  You  must  come  and  live 
here. 


152  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXVIII. 

Bank  of  Virginia,  Feb.  9,  1814, 

11,  A.  M. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  was  handed  to  me  a  few  minutes  ago,  at 

Dr.  B 's,  by  old  Quashia.-     I  thank  you  for  this  mark  of 

your  attention;  for,  to  say  the  truth,  I  have  never  failed  get 
ting  a  letter  from  you  by  the  wagons,  or  the  mail,  without 
a  feeling  of  disappointment.  But  when  I  think  I  perceive 
the  cause  of  your  uncommunicativeness  to  arise  from  the  fa 
tigue  to  which  you  have  exposed  yourself  on  my  account, 
or,  perhaps,  to  low  spirits,  the  effect  of  your  present  unplea 
sant  situation,  it  makes  me  uneasy.  I  have  been,  indeed, 
very  much  disturbed  of  late,  by  an  occurrence  as  unexpect 
ed  as  it  is  distressing;  and,  perhaps,  I  tinge  other  objects 
with  the  hue  of  the  medium  through  which  I  observe  them. 

I  sent  the  books  for  your  entertainment.  Why  the  pa 
pers  do  not  arrive  I  am  at  a  loss  to  conceive,  unless  through 
the  negligence  of  the  post-office.  They  are  not  forwarded 
to  me,  here:  perhaps  they  are  detained  at  Charlotte  C.  H. 
I  think  I  have  heard  of  such  a  practice  there,  last  winter. 

I  send  a  capital  Scotch  plough  for  four  horses,  and  cast 
ings  for  another:  we  must  see  if  our  folks  can  make  one.  I 
wish  you  would  have  all  the  clover  seed  sown  at  the  middle 
quarter.  Cambey  may  take  the  Diomed  mare  and  the  mule 
at  the  lower  quarter.  Perhaps  it  would  not  injure  some  of 
the  young  horses  to  plough  them:  at  least,  it  will  not  after 
the  ground  is  broken  up.  I  am  grieved  that  we  are  likely 
to  be  disappointed  of  ice. 

Will  you  be  so  good  as  to  plant  out  (if  to  be  found)  some 
wild  cherry  and  wild  currant  (alias  Corinth)  trees. 

Quashia  (the  man,  not  the  wood,)  interrupts  me. 
Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  153 


LETTER  CXIX. 

Richmond,  Friday,  Feb.  17,  1814. 

I  REACHED  this  place  with  my  little  charge,  on  Sunday 
last,  too  late  to  write  to  you,  my  dear  Theodore.  I  found 
Tudor  here,  not  at  all  improved  in  health  since  I  saw  him  in 
New  York.  I  fear,  both  from  my  own  observation,  and  what 
I  hear,  that  he  is  not  sufficiently  careful  of  himself.  Yes 
terday  the  whole  town  was  thrown  into  great  joy  by  the  cer 
tainty  of  peace.  The  preliminaries  were  signed  on  the  24th 
of  December.  Great  as  my  calculations  have  always  been, 
on  the  folly  of  the  British  ministry,  I  have  never  made  suf 
ficient  allowance  on  that  score.  Their  ill-contrived  expedi 
tion  against  New  Orleans  was  carrying  on  at  the  very  mo 
ment  that  they  were  giving  us  peace.  What  a  wanton  waste 
of  gallant  men ! 

I  shall  set  out  next  week  for  Roanoke.  My  horses  want 
ed  rest,  and  I  have  some  arrangements  to  make  here  which 
have  detained  me,  and  may,  probably,  keep  me  longer  than 
I  intended.  I  shall  endeavour  to  bring  Tudor  with  me. 
Present  me  to  your  mother  and  sister,  if  they  be  with  you. 
Most  truly,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

I  received  a  letter  from  you  whilst  I  was  at  Mr.  Ridge- 
ly's.  It  had  been  forwarded  from  Philadelphia.  It  was 
written  soon  after  Tudor  left  you.  Dr.  G.  and  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
S.  Ridgely  desire  their  respects  to  you.  They  all  made  par 
ticular  inquiries  after  you;  as  did  Dr.  and  Mrs.  B, 

Remember  me  to  Colonel  Morton. 


20 


154  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXX. 

Richmond,  Monday,  March  7, 1814. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  RECEIVED  your  letter  by  Quashia,  yesterday,  after 
morning  service;  of  course,  nothing  could  be  done  until  to 
day.  I  directed  Ryland,  however,  to  get  the  chief  article, 
iron,  as  soon  as  possible,  this  morning;  but  there  are  some 
other  things  that  I  wish  to  send  up,  and  I  have  been  so  un 
well  for  the  last  week  as  to  be  incapable  of  any  thing.  You 
and  Tudor  are,  in  one  respect,  two  provoking  correspon 
dents.  You  have  the  art  of  writing  letters  without  putting 
any  thing  in  them — and  of  answering,  without  replying 
to  your  correspondent  Add  to  this,  that  your  epistles  bear 
strong  symptoms  of  hypochondriasis.  That  you,  my  dear 
Theodore,  should  be  affected  in  this  way,  is  not  wonderful, 
considering  the  life  you  lead.  I  can  scarcely  bear  to  think 
of  it.  You,  my  dear  Theodore,  are  the  chief  stay  and  com 
fort  of  my  life,  and  it  grieves  me  to  think  that  you  should 
be  buried  in  the  wilds  of  Roanoke,  especially  when  I  see 
so  many  dolts,  here,  succeeding  in  the  profession,  of  which 
you  have  made  yourself  master.  I  think  I  must  insist  on 
your  removal.  I  know,  and  admire  the  motive  that  keeps 
you  where  you  are;  and  it  serves  but  to  rivet  my  esteem  of 
you.  I  hope,  however,  that  it  will  not  prevent  you  follow 
ing  the  bent  of  your  inclination,  should  it  prompt  a  visit  to 
Tennessee. 

I  send  up  by  Quashia  some  sugar  and  coffee.  I  am  afraid 
that  you  are  too  fastidious  with  me,  and  refrain  from  men 
tioning  the  wants  of  our  little  cabin.  For  heaven's  sake, 
my  dear  Theodore,  let  there  be  none  of  this  between  us. 
You  have  a  right  to  look  upon  me  as  a  father,  as  I  do  on  you 
as  a  son.  I  never  fail  to  command  you.  Do  thou  likewise. 

I  shall  send  coal,  provided  it  will  not  interfere  with  some 
furniture  that  I  have  bought.  Quashia  brings  a  bushel  of 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  155 

clover  seed.  It  is  rather  late,  but  I  wish  it  sowed  on  some 
rich  spot,  at  the  middle  quarter;  and  if  not  ground  enough 
to  be  had  there,  the  remainder  at  the  ferry,  say  on  the  wheat 
land;  although  it  would  succeed  better  with  oats,  if  we  had 
the  land  to  receive  them. 

We  will  also  give  you  some  books,  pamphlets,  &c.,  which 
may  serve  to  amuse  you;  and  some  late  papers,  English  as 
well  as  American. 

The  very  same  thought  of  promoting  little  Quash,  to  the 
command  of  the  ferry  wagon,  had  suggested  itself  to  me 
before  you  mentioned  it;  and  I  had  determined  to  carry  it 
into  execution.  Your  plan  of  hiring  the  carriage  of  the  re 
maining  tobacco  is  highly  proper  and  advisable. 

I  shall  sell  my  colts  and  fillies  at  the  May  races,  if  practi 
cable,  and  the  English  mares  with  them.  If  any  one  will 
give  you  a  thousand  dollars  for  Gracchus,  take  it. 

The  Doctor  and  Mrs.  Brockenbrough  desire  their  best  re 
membrance  to  you.  I  dined  at  Bellville,  on  Friday,  and 
Mrs.  B.  and  Miss  Barton  inquired  after  you. 

Adieu,  dear  Theodore! 

I  am,  most  truly,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Pray  read  Frank  Key's  discourse.  No  other  paper.  I 
send  you  none. 


LETTER  CXXI. 

Richmond,  Sunday,  March  20, 1814. 
Mv  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  just  now  received  your  welcome  letter  of  the 
13th,  (this  day  week.)    Surely  the  wise  ones  have  made  some 


156  LETTERS  OF 

strange  change  in  our  mail  establishment,  when  it  lakes  a 
week  to  send  a  letter  a  hundred  miles.  My  dear  son,  the 
state  of  your  health,  and  the  evident  depression  of  your  spi 
rits,  were  not  unobserved  by  me  when  we  met  three  years 
ago,  on  the  road  from  Washington  to  Baltimore.  It  cost  me 
many  a  heart-ach  to  see  the  ravages  which  a  winter  in  Phila 
delphia  had  made  on  your  constitution,  and  natural  cheerful 
ness.  I  ascribed  them,  I  believe,  to  the  right  cause;  but  as 
you  had  not  confided  that  cause  to  me,  so  neither  did  I  feel 
myself  at  liberty  to  inquire  concerning  it  of  others.  But  this 
.circumstance  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  my  mind,  that 
I  felt  reluctant  at  the  thoughts  of  your  return  the  next  win 
ter;  although  I  kept  it  to  myself.  The  world  has  used  me  so 
ill — yet,  why  blame  the  world?  Those  from  whom  I  had  a 
right  to  expect  a  very  different  conduct,  have  betrayed  such 
shameless  selfishness,  so  bare-faced  a  disregard  of  my  feelings, 
and  of  my  rights,  that,  but  for  you,  I  should  sink  into  inve 
terate  misanthropy.  Nature  (to  use  a  certain  fashion,  of 
speaking)  intended  me  for  something  very  different  from  what 
J  am.  I  have  been  ossified  by  a  petrifying  world.  All  life, 
and  spirit,  and  confidence,  and  enthusiasm:  I  have  become 
.cold,  suspicious,  and  dead  to  every  better  feeling,  except 
through  a  sort  of  faint  remembrance  of  such  as  I  formerly  ex 
perienced.  But  enough  of  this  egotism. 

There  are  two  not  '  unknown/  but  unmentioned  ladies, 
who  haye  spoken  of  you  to  me  in  very  flattering  terms;  the 

fashionable  Miss  M ,  and  the  elegant  Mrs.  W .    The 

latter  expressed  her  regret  at  being  from  home  when  you 
.called.  Mrs*  Bell  often  inquires  after  you.  She  is  my  chief 

resource  of  female  society,  and  reminds  me  of  Mrs.  G ! 

The  dignity  and  elegance  of  her  pursuits,  compared  with  the 
frivolous  occupations  or  inane  indolence  of  our  ladies,  in  ge 
neral,  give  a  new  charm  to  the  beauty  of  her  person,  and  the 
polish  of  her  manners.  I  dined  there  a  few  days  ago,  and 
have  quite  overcome  the  coyness  of  little  IVJary  Anne,  who 
says,  " /love  Mr.  R."  For  the  misses  of  this,  our  day,  (al 
ways  excepting  Miss  Caton  and  Miss  Barton,)  I  have  no  great 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  157 

penchant;  and  the  notables,  although  very  good  house-keep 
ers,  are  but  poor  companions.  By  the  way,  do  you  know 
that  La  Belle  Goldsborough  is  Mrs.  W.  Fitzhugh?  The  bell 
rings,  and  I  must  to  church.  The  Doctor  and  lady  return 
your  compliments.  He  is  the  best  man  in  the  world,  and 
she  a  very  superior  woman.  Her  understanding  is  mascu 
line,  and  well  improved  by  reading:  but  her  misfortunes  (how 
should  they  fail)  have  cast  a  sombre  hue  over  her  temper  and 
manners. 

I  shall  get  your  shirting  and  mine  at  the  same  time. 

Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Charles  Sterrett  Ridgely  desires  to  be  remembered  warm 
ly  to  you.  "  Thanks  to  you  (he  writes  to  me)  for  entirely 
curing  me  of  my  military  mania.  I  no  longer  pant  after  that 
phantom,  military  fame;  am  content  with  my  lot,  and  wish 
only  to  be  distinguished  as  an  honest  man,  and  a  good  citi 
zen;  and  now,  that  I  think  soberly  and  seriously,  it  is  a  sub 
ject  of  astonishment  that  I  should  ever,  for  a  moment,  have 
thought  of  resigning  the  comforts  of  domestic  life,  the  socie 
ty  of  my  wife  and  children,  and  of  friends,  whom  I  sincerely 
love,  to  mix  with  the  unprincipled  and  profligate,  and  to  be 
come  the  slave  and  tool  of  men,  whose  principles  I  cannot  but 
detest;  and  that,  too,  in  a  cause  which  I  consider  to  be  most 
unjust." 

I  am  going  to  Bellville  after  church,  and  will  leave  my  let 
ter  open  until  I  return.  Mr.  Parish  is  at  Ogdensburg.  He 
has  been  there  since  January. 

I  have  seen  Mrs.  B.  She  returns  her  acknowledgments  for 
your  politeness.  I  did  not  see  Mr.  B. 


158  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXXIL 

Richmond,  May  16, 1814. 

Monday  Morning. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  shall  send  your  linen  by  Quashia,  as  no  wagon  can 
be  found  going  towards  Roanoke.  I  hope  you  will  not  set 
out  until  you  hear  from  me,  once  more.  You  make  no  men 
tion  of  Mr.  Stanford.  How  is  this?  I  have  sold  the  colts 
for  $150  each.  I  know  that  they  are  worth  more,  but  "ne 
cessity,  &c."  I  wish,  when  you  write  to  me,  you  would  call 
to  mind  such  objects  as  you  suppose  would  interest  me:  even 
the  dogs,  and  little  Molly,  I  would  rather  hear  of  than  no 
thing.  There  have  been  incessant  rains  during  the  last  fort 
night;  the  earth  is  supersaturated  with  water,  and  the  crops 
of  wheat,  generally  ruined,  except  upon  poor  lands,  that  ne 
ver  produce  any  thing  worth  the  trouble  of  the  planter.  Oats 
are,  consequently,  very  fine;  and  the  grounds  around  Bell- 
ville  are  as  green  as  a  leek.  Mrs.  B.,  however,  is  drooping. 
She  proposes  going  to  Kingston,  (her  mother's,  in  Dinwid- 
die,)  in  a  few  days.  She  often  mentions  you;  so  do  the  Doc 
tor  and  Mrs.  B.  Of  Bouldin  I  see  nothing,  and  scarcely  any 
thing  of  Leigh. 

News  from  Europe:  Bonaparte  has  been  roughly  han 
dled  by  the  allies;  but  Austria  refuses  to  accede  to  his  de 
thronement.  Armistice  on  the  5th  of  March,  and  general 
peace  expected.  Mr.  Parish,  who  has  got  back  to  Philadel 
phia,  writes  that  the  whole  Christian  world  will  be  at  peace 
by  the  4th  of  July  next.  A  letter  from  Tudor,  of  the  2d  of 
May — he  was  well;  so  was  Mr.  Garnett,onthe  9th:  both  de 
sire  to  be  remembered  by  you.  Adieu! 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

I  hear  of  a  great  fresh  in  Roanoke. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  159 

LETTER  CXXIIT. 

Camp  Fairfield,  Sept.  2, 1814. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

You  may  be  surprised  at  not  hearing  from  me;  but, 
1st,  I  lost  my  horses.  2dly,  I  got  a  violent  bilious  com 
plaint,  not  cholera,  but  cousin-german  to  it.  3dly,  I  heard 
the  news  of  Washington,  and,  without  delay,  proceeded  hither. 
I  am  now  under  orders  to  proceed  to  the  brick  house,  forty- 
two  miles  on  York  road,  just  below  the  confluence  of  Pa- 
munkey  and  Mattapony,  Should  you  come  down,  report 
yourself  to  the  surgeon  general,  Doctor  Jones,  of  Nottoway; 
but  first  come  to  camp  and  see  Watkins  Leigh,  the  governor's 
aid.  Apply  to  Ry.  R.  for  what  money  you  may  want. 
God  bless  you,  my  son. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 
DR.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  CXXIV. 

Richmond,  Sept.  7,  1814, 

THIS,  I  believe,  is  the  third  letter  that  I  have  written 
to  you,  to-day,  my  dear  Theodore.  In  truth,  I  can  think  of 
nothing  but  you;  for,  of  poor  dear  Tudor  and  his  unfortu 
nate  brother,  I  try  to  think  not  at  all.  You  will  hear  from 
me,  whenever  I  indulge  myself  in  rest  and  sleep;  and  beg 
that  you  will  write  by  every  conveyance  that  offers.  I  have 
many  anxious  hours  on  your  subjects.  I  know,  indeed,  that 
according  to  vulgar  arithmetic,  you  might  be  esteemed  my 
debtor;  but  I  am  conscious,  that,  upon  the  strictest  scrutiny? 


160  LETTERS  OF 

I  can  never  repay  you,  even  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view, 
one  half  of  what  I  owe  you.  I  shall  be  at  home,  I  hope,  by 
the  last  of  next  month;  at  any  rate,  by  Christmas:  and  I 
wish  you  to  make  up  your  mind  to  remove  to  Richmond  by 
that  time,  unless  you  can  reconcile  yourself  to  the  abandon 
ment  of  your  country  practice,  and  sharing  with  me  as  a 
son.  How  i£  it,  that  you  alone  should  persist  in  overpay 
ing  me,  when  I  find  all  others  insensible  of  what  the  world 
calls  obligation?  I  repeat,  that  in  a  mere  account  of  profit 
and  loss,  I  have  gained  from  your  medical  services,  alone, 
more  than  any  expense  to  which  I  may  have  been  put  on 
the  score  of  your  education.  Of  the  satisfaction  that  I  have 
had  in  your  society,  I  will  say  nothing;  for  there  is  no  rela 
tion  beiween  it  and  a  matter  of  money. 
Most  truly,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  CXXV. 

Richmond,  Oct.  8,  1814. 
Saturday  Morning,  2  o'clock. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

MR.  JONES'S  servant,  who  promised  to  wake  me  at 
three,  has  been  better  than  his  word  by  more  than  two 
hours.  I  heard  ten  strike  soon  after  I  got  to  bed,  and  by 
the  time  that  I  had  dressed,  it  struck  one.  I  lay  down  again 
in  the  hopes  of  getting  a  little  sleep,  but  found  my  mind  too 
anxious  to  succeed.  This  is  the  fourth  letter  that  I  have  ad 
dressed  to  you  within  twelve  or  eighteeen  hours. 

It  is  possible  that  I  may  have  occasion  for  Essex.     Get 
him  some  decent  clothes,  (Gibbs  can  make  them,)  and  some 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  161 

shoes;  if  necessary,  give  him  the  best  of  my  boots — my 
great  coat,  or  your  own — three  pair  of  the  best  woollen 
stockings  that  1  left  behind.  He  will  find  my  old  hat,  here, 
in  Jones's  care,  which  he  will  take.  Get  him  some  good 
shirts:  if  they  cannot  be  had,  let  him  take  mine.  He  can 
bring  down  Everlasting,  or  Tudor's  mare,  and  wait  for  far 
ther  orders  from  Mr.  Robert  K.  Jones. 

Yours,  always, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  CXXVI. 

Baltimore,  Oct.  13, 1814. 

Thursday. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  HAVE  been  detained  here  since  Monday,  by  the 
consequences  of  an  accident  that  befell  me  at  Port  Conway 
(opposite  Port  Royal)  on  Monday  morning.  At  3  o'clock 
I  was  roused  to  set  out  in  the  stage:  mistaking,  in  the  dark, 
a  very  steep  staircase  for  a  passage,  at  the  end  of  which  I 
expected  to  find  the  descent — walking  boldly  on,  I  fell  from 
the  top  to  the  bottom,  and  was  taking  up  senseless.  My 
left  shoulder  and  elbow  were  severely  hurt;  also,  the  right 
ankle.  My  hat  saved  my  head,  which  was  bruised,  but  not 
cut.  Nevertheless,  1  persevered,  got  on  to  Georgetown,  and 
the  next  day  came  to  this  place,  where  I  have  been  com 
pelled  to  remain  in  great  pain.  I  am  now  better,  and  shall 
limp  on  to  Philadelphia  to-morrow.  Sterett  Ridgely  and 
Dr.  Gibson  inquire  particularly  after  you.  So  did  Stanford. 
I  found  Leigh  here,  but  he  was  obliged  to  go  on,  next  day, 
to  Fredericktown. 

21 


162  LETTERS   OF 

The  random  shot  that  killed  Ross,  saved  Baltimore.  Ge 
neral  Winfield  Scott,  passed  on  yesterday  to  Washington. 
Poor  Winder  is  the  scape-goat  to  Monroe,  who  made  all  the 
arrangements  at  Bladensburg. 

Remember  me  to  St.  George.  I  shall  write  again,  fullyr 
from  Philadelphia. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

No  application  was  made  to  my  bruises  until  my  arrival 
here  on  Monday  night.  Nicholson  has  not  called  on  me! 
Washington  is  ruined.  The  walls  of  the  Capitol  and  Palace 
are  rapidly  decomposing.  The  massy  columns  in  the  Hall 
of  the  Representatives  are  not  larger  than  the  ordinary  poles 
of  which  we  build  tobacco  houses.  The  Navy  Yard  is  utterly 
torn  up  and  destroyed.  The  public  offices,  archives,  &c., 
gone  for  ever.  Send  me  a  good  impression  of  my  small  seal. 
Address  to  West  Farms,  New  York.  Written  on  my  back. 


LETTER  CXXVII. 

Philadelphia,  Oct.  19,  1814 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

MRS.  C.  has  never  married:  it  was  Mr.  C's.  sister-in- 
law;  now  again  a  widow.  Mrs.  C.  is  hurt  beyond  measure 
at  the  report,  which  she  says  was  believed  by  all  her  ac 
quaintances  out  of  Philadelphia,  and  by  some  there. 

Fortunately,  Mrs.  R.  did  not  deliver  my  letter  to  Mrs. 
A.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.  are  well — kind  beyond  measure — the 
boys  rather  puny — Randolph  less  so  than  his  brother.  All 
talk  with  warm  regard  of  you:  so  does  Dr.  Chapman,  with 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  163 

whom  I  dined  yesterday  at  Mr.  T.  W.  Francis's.  Mr.  Pa 
rish,  with  whom  I  dined  the  day  before,  Mr.  Meredith,  and 
many  more,  were  present  on  the  occasion.  Mr.  P.  begs,  and 
Dr.  C.,  also,  the  most  cordial  remembrance  to  you.  You 
must  come  here  to  live,  I  think.  Mr.  Ashmead,  jr.,  is  ill; 
Tudor  is  out  of  all  immediate  danger:  so  a  letter  from  Mr. 
Morris,  that  met  me  here,  and  another  yesterday  from  his 
mother,  tell  me.  Adieu. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


LETTER  CXXVIII. 

Morrisania,  Oct.  23,  1814. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

AFTER  various  accidents,  one  of  which  had  nearly 
put  an  end  to  my  unprosperous  life,  and  confined  me  nearly  a 
week  on  the  road,  I  reached  this  place  yesterday.  Tudor  is 
better.  I  have  hopes  of  him,  if  we  can  get  him  to  Virginia 
in  his  present  plight. 

I  found  your  letter  of  the  6th,  here.  Poor  St.  George, 
ill-starred,  unfortunate  boy! — his  destiny  was  sealed  before 
his  birth,  or  conception.  Take  care  of  yourself!  You  are 
my  last  stay.  I  must  beg  of  you  to  curtail  your  practice, 
with  a  view  to  a  change  of  life.  Talk  not  to  me  of  gratitude — 
you  owe  me  nothing.  I  must  deprecate  your  resentment: 
your  actions,  and  not  your  tongue,  have  spoken  of  gratitude; 
but  for  you,  I  should  not  believe  in  the  existence  of  such  a 
quality  amongst  mankind.  You,  who  persist  in  overpaying 
me  a  thousand  fold ;  whilst  every  other  person  on  whom  I 
have  conferred  a  favour  worth  remembering,  has  returned 
DETRACTION  and  dislike  for  the  deed. 


164  LETTERS  OF 

I  have  found  a  market  for  the  brood  mares. 
Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Stephen,  old  S's.  son,  is  with  us:  we  set  out  on  the  day 
after  to-morrow. 


LETTER  CXXIX. 

New  York,  Nov.  17, 1814. 
Thursday. 

IT  is  not  my  fault,  but  my  misfortune,  my  dear  Theodore, 
that  you  have  not  heard  from  me  since  I  left  Baltimore.  I 
wrote  to  you  from  Philadelphia,  and  made  express  mention 
of  your  friends  there,  and  of  their  particular  inquiries  after 
you.  Mrs.  Clay,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Croskey,  Dr.  Chapman; 
Mr.  Parish,  too,  was  pointed  in  his  questions.  As  soon  as 
I  had  seen  Tudor,  I  wrote  to  you  concerning  him,  and  my 
self,  also;  for,  on  returning  from  Morrisania  on  Sunday  the 
24th  of  October,  the  driver  overturned  me  in  Cortlandt 
Street,  by  driving  over  a  pile  of  stones,  &c.,  before  a  new 
house,  unfinished,  which  nuisance  extended  more  than  half 
way  across  a  narrow  street.  I  am  very  seriously  injured. 
The  patella  is,  in  itself,  unhurt — but  the  ligaments  are  very 
much  wrenched,  so  that  a  tight  bandage  alone  enables  me  to 
hobble  from  one  room  to  another,  with  the  help  of  a  stick. 
I  have  written  every  week  since.  Your  letters  of  the  6th 
and  16th  of  October,  and  7th  of  November,  came  to  hand: 
the  last  this  day.  But  one  from  Mr.  R.  K.  Jones,  of  the  6th 
of  November,  did  not  reach  me  until  yesterday;  and  another 
from  Tudor,  written  at  Philadelphia  on  the  2nd,  is  entirely 
lost.  Others  broken  open,  (one  from  Mr.  Quincy,)  and  de 
layed  intolerably.  Nay,  I  am  subject  to  other  ill  treatment 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  165 

into  the  bargain,  for  insisting  that  my  letters  shall  be  deli 
vered  to  my  servant,  and  to  him  only. 

I  hope  to  be  able  to  bear  the  motion  of  a  carriage,  by  the 
last  of  this  week.  I  shall  then  go  on  to  Philadelphia,  and 
hope  to  see  you  by  the  first  week  of  next  month.  Assured 
ly,  (God  willing,)  before  Christmas.  I  am  a  poor  miserable 
cripple,  and  you  are  my  only  support.  God  bless  you,  my 
son. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Mr.  Bleecker  is  here,  and  all  to  me  that  I  could  wish. 


LETTER  CXXX. 

Philadelphia,  Dec.  4, 1814. 
MY  BEST  FRIEND, 

ON  my  arrival  here,  (four  days  ago,)  I  hoped  to  have 
found  a  letter  from  you,  but  was  disappointed;  and  a  sore  dis 
appointment  it  was.  I  scribbled  you  a  few  lines,  the  same 
evening,  at  Mr.  P s,  that  I  might  lose  no  time  in  ap 
prizing  you  how,  or  where  I  was.  Poor  Mrs.  C.! — ano 
ther  brother  has  been  taken  from  her  since  I  left  this  place, 
for  New  York.  I  feared  as  much,  but  did  not  dare  to  ask. 
At  last,  yesterday,  came  a  meagre  letter  from  Tudor,  an 
nouncing  that,  in  consequence  of  Mr.  A's.  death,  he  had 
not  delivered  my  letter  to  Mrs.  C.,  on  the  subject  of  my 
little  name-sake.  It  is  dated  at  Richmond,  on  the  25th  of 
November — the  second  letter,  of  one  straggling  page,  that  he 
has  written  me  from  that  place.  Not  a  word  of  you,  or  his 
brother.  Although  at  a  great  sacrifice  of  time,  health,  and 
what,  to  a  man  in  debt,  is  of  more  consequence  than  either  of 


166  LETTERS  OF 

the  former,  I  went  on  to  New  York  to  assist  his  mother  home: 
she  has  not  deigned  to  drop  me  a  line,  or  even  to  mention  me 
in  her  son's  letters.  Notwithstanding  he  staid  three  days  in 
Philadelphia,  and  I  begged  him  to  sit  for  me  to  Sully,  she 
would  not  permit  him,  under  the  thin  pretext  that  the  paint 
would  prove  injurious  to  his  lungs;  although  Sully  would 
have  waited  on  him  at  his  lodgings,  or  would  have  taken  him 
in  water  colours.  Tudor  says,  "I  am  extremely  sorry,  my 
self,  about  the  picture,  and  thought  it  very  practicable  and 
easy  to  have  one  taken."  -t 

I  wrote  to  you  a  letter,  on  the  morning  of  my  departure 
from  this  place  for  New  York;  I  think  the  18th  of  October. 
I  have  written  since,  not  less  than  once  a  week;  often  twice 
and  thrice.  The  first  use  I  made  of  myself,  after  my  fall  at 
New  York,  was  to  give  you  an  account  of  my  disaster.  Your 
last  letter  is  of  the  16th  of  November,  acknowledging  mine 
from  Baltimore.  This  is,  probably,  the  last  that  I  shall  ad 
dress  to  you  from  this  place;  but,  no  matter,  write  on  to  Stan 
ford's  care.  By  clapping  a  large,  hot  waxen  seal  on  your 
letter,  he  defaced  entirely  the  impression  of  your  seal,  as  your 
second  had  done  of  the  first. 

Every  body  here  speaks  highly  of  you — particularly  the 

C — — s   and  C s.     I  met  Dr.   G.  yesterday.     He  was 

very  cordial.  Mr.  C.  pressed  me  to  take  a  bed  at  his 
house;  so  did  Mr.  P.,  who  has  been  all  kindness  and  atten 
tion  to  me. 

My  knee  is  irreparably  ruined.  The  patella  is  detached 
from  the  joint;  the  muscles  on  each  side  are,  in  the  tendinous 
parts,  ruptured.  Jt  is  now  six  weeks  since  the  accident  hap 
pened;  and,  without  strong  bandages  and  a  stick,  I  could  not 
hobble  along. 

I  leave  you  to  judge  how  anxious  I  am  to  hear  from  you. 
Poor  St.  George !  he  has  never  written  to  me  at  all — neither 
did  I  expect  or  wish  it. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore. 
Yours, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  167 

As  my  letter  of  October  18th  was,  probably,  violated,  let 
me  not  forget  to  mention  that  Dr.  C.  spoke  of  you  with 
the  warmest  regard;  also,  a  lady  that  shall  be  nameless. 


LETTER  CXXXI. 

York  Buildings,  Dec.  24, 1814. 

THIS  is  the  27th  day  since  my  arrival  here;  and,  in  all  that 
time,  I  have  not  heard  a  syllable  from  you.  My  anxiety  on 
this  subject  would  be  less,  had  I  heard  from  you  within  the 
last  fortnight  of  my  stay  in  New  York;  but,  since  the  17th  of 
November,  when  your  letter  of  the  7th  came  to  hand,  I  have 
not  received  a  line  from  you.  Let  me  earnestly  entreat  you, 
my  best  friend,  not  to  leave  me  again  in  this  state  of  suspense; 
and  should  you  be  sick,  and  nobody  have  the  humanity  to  in 
form  me  of  it,  unsolicited — let  me  beg  of  you  to  request  some 
neighbour  to  write  me,  if  it  be  but  one  line,  to  tell  me  how 
you  are.  In  your  next,  let  me  know  the  dates  of  the  letters 
which  you  have  received  from  me,  since  I  sent  Jupiter  home. 
In  looking  over  yours  I  can  find  but  three:  Oct.  6  and  16,  and 
Nov.  7.  During  that  period,  I  have  written  to  you  (besides 
my  letters  from  Amelia  and  Richmond)  from  Baltimore,  on 
the  18th  of  October;  from  this  place,  on  the  19th;  and  from 
New  York,  always  once  a  week,  often  twice,  and  sometimes 
thrice,  from  the  21st  of  October  to  the  26th  of  November,  in 
clusive.  Since  I  came  to  Philadelphia,  I  have  written  twice. 
I  am  thus  particular,  because  you  most  generally  omit  to  no 
tice  the  receipt  of  my  letters,  as  well  as  some  of  the  topics  on 
which  they  treat. 

I  ate  my  Christmas  dinner,  yesterday,  with  Mr.  C.,  and 
spent  the  evening  with  Dr.  and  Mrs.  G.  At  both  places  you 
were  the  subject  of  conversation;  and  they  all  flattered  me  by 


168  LETTERS  OF 

discovering  a  likeness  between  us.     The  Doctor  and  his  lady 

seem  to  be  most  cordially  attached  to  you;  so  do  the  C s, 

and  C s,  and  G s.  I  came  home  in  high  spirits,  con 
fident  of  a  letter  from  you,  this  morning — yesterday  being 
Sunday,  we  did  not  send  to  the  post-office — and,  in  the  hila 
rity  of  this  hope,  I  sat  in  my  chamber,  with  Mr.  P.,  until 
twelve.  This  morning,  at  breakfast,  the  carrier  arrived  with 
a  huge  packet,  but  te  nothing  for  me;"  and  my  heart  has  sunk 
as  low  as  the  mercury,  this  bitter  cold  day.  From  Tudor, 
since  he  left  me,  I  have  received  three  scanty  pages  of  wide 
and  straggling  lines,  each.  I  sometimes  ask  myself,  "  What 
can  be  the  matter?  I  have  written  and  talked  to  my  boys 
too  much.  They  hardly  deign  a  word,  or  a  line,  in  reply. 
Had  I  been  more  reserved,  they  would  have  been  less  un 
communicative."  Then,  again,  I  say,  "  What  man  ever  had 
a  better  son  than  my  Theodore  ?  one  more  dutiful,  more  af 
fectionate,  more  manly,  and  independent?  Poor  fellow;  he 
is  tired  of  drudging  for  me,  and  for  himself,  too;  besides,  the 
rascally  post-masters — do  I  know  their  tricks  ? — or,  perhaps, 
he  may  be  sick."  This  thought  is  cruel;  for  I  must  wait  a 
change  in  the  weather  before  R.  can  travel. 

Nothing  but  the  want  of  letters  from  home  could  have  pre 
vented  this  being  the  happiest  month  of  the  last  fifteen  years 
of  my  life. 

Adieu!  write  me  long,  garrulous  letters. 
Yours, 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

My  knee  is  better. 

On  the  impress  of  my  seal  you  clapped  another  hot  one, 
and  S.  another  upon  that — so  that  it  was  all  stuck  together 
like  so  much  sugar  candy;  and  I  could  make  nothing  of  it. 
Pray  send  the  next  to  S.,  with  a  request  to  seal  with  a  wafer. 
You  have  not  said  one  word  of  Dido  or  her  puppies,  or  my 
poor  old  Carlo,  or  little  Molly,  or  Essex,  or  Jupiter,  or  Nan 
cy.  J>en  suisfacfik. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  169 


LETTER  CXXXIL 

York  Buildings,  Dec.  27,  1814. 

I  FOUND  your  letter  upon  my  table,  yesterday,  when  I  re 
turned  from  my  morning  visits,  to  dress  for  dinner.  It  was 
a  most  sensible  relief  to  me,  as  you  may  suppose,  from  the 
complexion  of  my  letter,  written  yesterday  morning — which 
I  now  almost  regret  to  have  sent:  however,  you  will  receive 
this  at  the  same  time;  and  it  may  not  be  amiss  to  have  shown 
you  how  important  it  is  to  my  comfort  to  hear  from  you,  if  not 
regularly,  at  least  at  shorter  intervals  than  of  fifty  days.  I 
perceive  that,  in  your  last,  you  acknowledge  to  have  received 
my  letter  of  the  17th  of  November,  in  answer  to  yours  of  the 
7th;  so  that,  exclusively  of  two  others,  from  this  place,  it  was 
your  turn  to  write:  but  you  are  not  the  only  correspondent 
who  has  alleged,  as  a  reason  for  not  replying  to  my  letters, 
that  he  expected  to  hear  from  me  again.  I  had  arranged 
the  epistolary  campaign  with  admirable  skill.  My  friend  S., 
at  Washington  city,  occupying  the  middle  ground,  was  se 
lected  as  the  medium  of  communication,  and  was  to  forward 
to  the  north,  or  send  back  to  the  south,  all  packets  ad 
dressed  to  me,  agreeably  to  the  instructions  he  should  re 
ceive;  and,  being  on  the  main  line  of  daily  posts,  I  kept  him 
advised,  twice  or  thrice  a  week,  of  my  movements  or  posi 
tion — so  that,  upon  the  whole,  my  dear  doctor,  I  cannot  per 
ceive  the  equity  of  your  plea,  of  "ignorance  where  a  letter 
would  meet  me." 

I  am  truly  gratified  to  hear  that  your  mother  has  been  with 
you.  I  hope  she  will  soon  return  and  solace  your  solitude 
with  her  presence.  When  I  shall  get  back,  is,  as  yet,  un 
certain,  from  the  state  of  the  weather.  I  shudder  at  facing  the 
north-west  wind,  in  an  open  carriage,  with  my  young  charge. 
1  hope  you  did  not  communicate  to  your  mother  any  part  of 
my  letter,  except  that  which  contained  the  request  that  she 

22 


170  LETTERS  OF 

would  relate  the  circumstances  of  my  brother's  death.  Her 
visit  to  Virginia  was  entirely  unexpected  by  me;  I  hope  to 
have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  her  before  she  returns  to  Tennes 
see.  Her  company,  at  all  times  the  most  desirable  to  you, 
must,  under  present  circumstances,  possess  an  unusual  charm. 
You  mention  nothing  (more  vestro)  of  your  father  and  fami 
ly — particularly,  of  my  favourite  Fanny. 

I  regret,  too,  that  you  make  no  mention  of  your  friends 
here,  who  speak  of  you  with  the  most  cordial  regard.  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  G.,  the  C s,  G s,  Mrs.  H.,  a  most  charm 
ing  woman,  and  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Ch.  I  have  seen,  too,  your 
pretty  Mrs.  W.,  and  am  invited  to  dine  there,  on  Saturday; 
but  two  previous  invitations  prevent  my  ending  the  year  thus 
agreeably.  I  commence  it  with  Mrs.  W. 

This  cold  weather  will,  I  trust,  fill  our  ice-house.  Your 
care  respecting  the  negroes'  clothing,  and  every  thing  else, 
demands  more  than  I  can  repay.  You  say,  "  Quashia  saw 
Mr.  R.,  on  his  return  from  Richmond."  I  hope  he  has  not 
forgotten  my  orders  on  the  subject  of  returning  via  Farm- 
ville:  they  are  express  and  peremptory;  and  I  am  resolved 
on  breaking  up  all  communication  between  my  estate  and 
that  neighbourhood. 

If  you  did  not  give  old  Essex  my  great  coat,  send  it  down 
to  Richmond,  to  Adam  M.,  by  the  first  safe  conveyance.  Re 
member  me  to  him,  and  Jupiter,  and  Nancy,  and  little  Mol 
ly,  and  Hetty,  and  all  the  people.  I  hope  Jupiter  does  well. 
Dr.  C.  says  the  fern  is  all  a  deception.  It  is  a  common 
plant,  growing  about  springs;  but  of  no  virtue  in  Tasnia.*  I 
am  very  anxious  about  my  little  bay  Minimus.  Also,  re 
specting  the  foals  of  Lady  B.  Duette,  the  heir  of  Brunette, 
and  Duette's  grand-son.  These  1  take  to  be  the  best  on  the 
estate.  The  two  years'  old  colts  are  not  much,  except  Lady 
B's. ;  which  I  wish  to  be  well  kept.  Remember  me  to  old 
Carlo,  and  Dido,  and  Sancho.  Farewell.  You  say  nothing 

*  Aloes  and  spirits  of  turpentine  are  thought  good  remedies. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  171 

of  St.  George's  disease.     I  presume,  therefore,  he  left  you  as 
well  as  he  was  on  the  16th  of  October. 
Most  truly,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
DR.  DUDLEY. 

Mr.  P.  remembers  you  kindly. 

A  letter  from  Mr.  B.  and  Dr.  M.,  of  New  York,  in  town; 
both  most  acceptable  events. 


LETTER  CXXXIII. 

Richmond,  Saturday  Night. 

November,  18,  1815. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

SINCE  I  wrote  to  you  this  morning,  by  Mr.  Carring- 
ton,  who  promised  to  send  the  letter  to  you  as  soon  as  he 
got  home,  I  learned  from  my  friend  Mrs.  Cunningham,  (who 
makes  the  kindest  inquiries  after  you,)  that  Mrs.  Lacy  is 
dead.  This  breaks  up  all  my  schemes  with  regard  to  Ran 
dolph,  whom,  of  course,  you  will  not  send  down.  I  shall 
come  up,  or  send  for  him,  as  soon  as  possible;  but,  as  it  is 
raining  very  hard  at  this  time,  (half  past  eight,)  and  I  am 
not  a  Halifax  man,  I  despatched  this  letter  by  Mr.  Bruce  to 
advise  you  to  that  effect.  He  sets  out  to-morrow;  and,  al 
though  he  has  the  influenza  very  badly,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
he  will  persevere  in  the  journey.  He  was  engaged,  and  the 
"Captain  bold,"  also,  to  dine  at  Mr.  T's.  on  Wednesday 
last.  After  keeping  us  waiting  until  dark,  we  sat  down  to 
dinner,  and  next  day  learned  that  they  were  too  busy  load 
ing  their  wagon  to  come.  Mr.  B.  was  engaged  yesterday 
to  dine  at  Dr.  B's.,  but  business  at  R's.  kept  him  away,  as 


172  LETTERS  OF 

the  Doctor  was  informed  to-day.  But  I  am  growing  scan 
dalous.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.,  at  whose  house  I  am  writing,  send 
their  respects  to  you. 

Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Dr.  Hoge  preaches  poor  Tudor's  funeral  sermon  this  day 
week  at  Cumberland  Court  House. 

I  am  afraid  you  will  have  a  dreadful  time  of  it  on  your 
way  to  Tennessee.  The  water-courses  in  that  country  will 
be  hardly  passable.  Suppose  you  spend  the  winter  here, 
and  defer  the  journey  until  April.  I  fear  for  your  health. 
Messrs.  C.  and  W.  D.,  the  last  of  whom  has  been  to  Nash 
ville,  represent  it  as  a  rash  undertaking.  Mr.  D.  has  been 
there:  pray  consult  him  before  you  set  out. 


LETTER  CXXXIV. 

Babel,  Jan.  13,  1816. 
Monday. 

I  WROTE  to  you  on  this  day  week  from  Georgetown.  On 
reaching  the  house,  I  learned  that  my  brother  Harry  had 
been  overturned  the  day  before  in  the  Winchester  stage,  and 
was  dangerously  hurt.  I  set  out  immediately,  and  found 
him  confined  to  his  bed,  about  thirty  miles  above  Alexan 
dria.  He  was  severely  wounded,  and  has  suffered  extreme 
pain;  but  I  left  him  out  of  danger  on  Thursday  morning. 
Mrs.  T.  reached  him  on  Thursday  evening.  On  my  return, 
I  found  your  letter  of  the  30th  of  December,  and  the  en 
closed  elegant  epistle  unsealed.  I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you 
have  anticipated  my  prescription,  and  rejoice  in  your  sport- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  173 

ing  success.     This  fine  weather  will,  I  hope,  fill  our  ice 
house — a  most  important  consideration. 

Your  Tennessee  news  is  not  so  good.  In  a  case  of  this 
sort,  however,  I  always  pity  the  parents — the  child  never. 

You  say  nothing  about  the  dogs.  Has  Sancho  recovered 
his  eye-sight?  Is  Dido  likely  to  have  another  litter,  and 
how  comes  on  the  puppy? 

In  haste  and  confusion. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

I  have  enclosed  M.  a  check  for  his  money. 


LETTER  CXXXV. 

Jan.  21, 1816. 

MY  heart  misgave  me  that  something  was  wrong.  Poor 
Sally!  I  wish  she  had  staid  with  us.  My  dear  Theodore, 
I  am  anxious  about  you  to  a  degree  that  I  cannot  express. 
I  would  not  thwart  one  feeling  of  yours — much  less  tear 
you  from  your  family  under  such  circumstances.  Come 
home  as  soon  as  you  can.  Remember  that  I  have  lost  my 
parents,  and  my  brethren.  You  have  many  left.  This  is 
the  first  tribute  that  the  grim  King  of  Terrors  has  levied 
tipon  your  family.  Take  comfort  from  what  is  left  to  you, 
rather  than  dwell  upon  what  you  have  lost.  See  Rutledge, 
if  you  can.  If  not,  send  him  my  letter  by  a  safe  hand.  I 
wish  you  had  added,  if  it  had  been  but  three  lines,  to  tell 
me  how  you  are,  and  how  the  journey  agreed  with  you.  I 
am  well. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

THEO.  BLAND  DUDLEY,  M.  D. 


174  LETTERS  OF 

Mr.  Charles  S.  R.  left  me  yesterday  morning:  he  desires 
his  best  regards  to  you. 

I  am  at  S's.,  Georgetown;  where  I  fare  better  than  at  my 
old  lodgings. 


LETTER  CXXXVI. 

Baltimore,  Sunday,  Feb.  18, 1816. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  short  and  melancholy  letter  of  December  29th, 
excepted,  I  have  received  not  a  line  from  you  since  your  de 
parture  for  Tennessee.  Judge  my  uneasiness  at  this  cir 
cumstance.  Surely  if  you  were  ill  you  would  get  some  one 
of  the  family  to  write,  if  it  were  but  a  line.  I  last  night 
sprained  both  my  thumbs,  and  several  fingers  of  each  hand, 
in  trying  to  save  my  face  from  the  consequences  of  a  fall  oc 
casioned  by  treading,  at  the  top  of  a  steep  staircase,  on  my 
own  tail — the  surtouts  now  reaching  to  the  shoe  buckles,  and 
being  somewhat  a  better  defence  to  gentlemen's  legs  than 
that  afforded  to  the  feet  of  ladies  by  their  petticoats  j  ladies 
having,  you  know,  no  legs. 

I  shall  write  again  as  soon  as  I  get  back  to  the  city  of  0. 
Many  kind  inquiries  after  you  by  Sterrett  R.,  Dr.  G.,  &c.  &c. 
Poor  N.  is  destroyed  body  and  mind  by  paralysis.  Miss  E., 
I  am  told,  is  as  beautiful  as  ever.  I  came  to  R's.  country- 
house,  this  day  week,  and  escorted  Madame  hither  on  Thurs 
day  last.  We  return  to-morrow.  My  best  regards  to  all 
the  family.  Poor  Sally!  I  had  flattered  myself  that  she 
would  return  to  Virginia,  and  make  one  of  our  family! — 

but Farewell. 

Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  175 

LETTER  CXXXVII. 

Feb.  26, 1816. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  4th  instant  has  relieved  me  from 
a  state  of  most  cruel  and  anxious  suspense.  How  could  you 
leave  me  for  weeks  (almost  months)  in  such  a  situation?  I 
have  worried  the  Tennessee  delegation  with  inquiries,  and 
received  only  the  most  dismal  accounts  of  the  mortality  in 
Nashville,  and  the  surrounding  country.  Your  letter  is  dated 
Santonhoe,  if  I  read  aright.  Where  is  that  place  situated? 
Where  is  Fayetteville?  for  I  presume  you  do  not  mean  Cross 
Creek,  (as  it  used  to  be  called,)  in  North  Carolina.  I  wish 
you  could  get  my  letter,  in  safety,  to  Rutledge. 
I  refer  you  to  Colonel  M.  for  news  of  Beverley. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

I  am  barely  in  time  for  the  mail. 


LETTER  CXXXVIII. 

Monday  Morning,  April  8,  1816. 

I  HAVE  sent  you  some  English  papers.  Read  and  take 
care  of  them.  Poor  S.  is,  I  fear,  dying.  Jupiter  is  knocked 
up,  nursing  him.  An  important  bill  is  now  reading,  (tariff,) 
which  I  must  speak  upon.  Adieu,  dear  Theodore.  My  own 
health  not  good. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 


176  LETTERS  OF 

Poor  Sancho's  hind  leg  is  broken.     I  have  a  most  beauti 
ful  Spanish  slut 


LETTER  CXXXIX. 

Georgetown,  April  11, 181& 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

You  may  imagine  how  much  I  was  gratified  by  the 
receipt  of  your  letter  of  the  25th  March;  which  did  not 
reach  me  until  yesterday,  too  late  to  reply  to  it  by  return  of 
mail.  Last  week  I  received  one  from  Colonel  M.,  of  the 
same  date,  in  which  he  mentioned  that  you  had  not  got  back; 
comparing  the  time  with  that  set  for  your  departure,  I  was, 
in  spite  of  my  system,  a  good  deal  uneasy  about  you.  In 
deed,  the  times  are  awful  and  depressing.  Yesterday  we 
buried  poor  S.  I  staid  by  his  bed-side  the  night  before  he 
died,  (Monday.)  Jupiter  was  worn  down  by  nursing  him, 
and  is  still  feeling  the  effects  of  it:  he  returned  home  on 
Sunday  morning,  and  has  been  sick  ever  since.  My  own 
health  is  not  much  better,  and  my  spirits  worse.  As  soon 
as  the  weather  and  roads  will  permit,  I  shall  bend  my  course 
homeward.  The  loss  sustained  upon  my  tobacco,  will  put  an 
end  to  some  of  my  projects.  I  send  you,  by  Mr.  D.,  some 
money. 

Most  affectionately,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 
DR.  DUDLEY. 

Remember  me  to  your  mother. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  177 

LETTER  CXL. 

Monday,  April  15, 1816. 
DEAR  DOCTOR, 

YOUR  half  sheet,  of  the  llth,  did  not  reach  me  until 
to-day.  If  you  remain  in  Richmond  a  week,  you  will  stand 
a  chance  to  see  me.  How  is  it  that  you  say  nothing  of  any 
body  or  any  thing? — not  even  of  Randolph.  To  my  surprise, 
I  received  a  letter  from  Beverley,  dated  the  10th,  at  Rich 
mond!  London  would  not  have  been  more  unexpected. 
You  do  not  mention  him;  and,  of  course,  I  ought  to  conclude 
that  you  have  not  met. 

Our  house  must  be  bare  of  many  necessaries.  Pray  get 
such  as  are  most  wanting.  Besides  groceries,  towels  and 
sheets  are  requisite.  Poor  Jupiter  is,  at  last,  out  of  danger. 
He  nursed  Mr.  S. 

Mr.  P.,  of  Philadelphia,  is  well,  and  entertaining  his  ex- 
majesty  and  marshals  of  France,  Spain,  &c.  R.  R.,  jr.,  is 
well,  and  doing  well.  Mr.  F.  K.  has  been  ill  with  the  pre 
valent  epidemic.  Adieu! 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

We  shall  want  some  lime  to  plaster  the  house.  I  have  got 
bolts  for  the  windows,  and  shutters,  and  ordered  chimney- 
pieces* 


23 


178  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXLI. 

Richmond,  Aug.  10,  1816. 
Mr  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  LEFT  home  on  the  Monday  (July  29th)  after  your 
departure:  four  dismal  days  I  passed  by  myself,  and  one 
night  with  Colonel  M.  On  Friday  evening  we  had  a  re 
viving  shower,  and  a  sprinkle  on  Saturday;  whereupon  it 
turned  suddenly  cold,  and  has  continued  so  almost  ever  since. 
I  called  at  Peter  R's.;  and,  on  Tuesday  morning,  July  30th, 
we  had  a  large  fire:  also,  the  night  before.  On  Tuesday  I 
reached  Dr.  R's;  and,  on  the  1st  instant,  this  place.  I  have 
sold  my  tobacco  for  twenty  dollars,  payable  the  1st  of  July 
next. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.  had  set  out  for  Philadelphia  the  day  be 
fore  my  arrival.  They  will  be  at  the  Warm  Springs  about 
the  last  of  this  month.  I  have  been  seeking  a  private  op 
portunity  to  send  you  a  letter  from  your  father,  which  I  re 
ceived  on  Sunday,  July  28th.  I  shall  give  it,  with  this,  into 
the  care  of  Mr.  T.  T. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.,  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.,  and  Messrs.  M., 
J.,  and  T.,  inquire  particularly  after  you.  I  go  up,  to-day, 
with  the  two  first,  as  far  as  H.  H's.,  on  my  way  homeward: 
M.  will  accompany  me.  I  met  St.  George  at  R's.,  on  the 
1st  instant.  He  looks  very  Well.  Richmond  has  been  clear 
of  dust,  heat,  and  insects,  for  ten  days  past:  it  has  even  ver 
dure. 

You  may  imagine  how  anxious  I  am  to  hear  from  you. 
*%k      May  God  bless  you,  my  son. 
Yours,  ever, 
^     *  JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Remember  me  to  Juba. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  179 

LETTER  CXLII. 

Roanoke,  Sept.  3,  1816. 
My  DEAR  THEODORE, 

THERE  has  been  no  rain  here,  except  a  slight  shower 
on  the  Friday  (July  26th,)  after  your  departure,  since  you 
left  us.  The  consequences  you  may  well  imagine.  The  to 
bacco  crop  is  shortened  at  least  two-thirds,  and  a  general  ap 
prehension  of  famine  pervades  the  land.  Six  and  seven  and 
a  halfvjjollars  have  been  given,  in  advance,  for  new  corn,  from 
the  stack. 

Mr.  J.  and  Mr.  B.  spent  a  day  with  me;  and  the  latter  has 
promised  to  give  me  another,  to-morrow,  on  his  return  from 
Halifax.  The  state  of  my  health  has  been  worse  than  usual, 
of  late.  I  have  had  a  severe  bilious  attack  on  the  bowels,  for 
the  last  three  days. 

Your  letter  of  the  2d  of  August,  post-marked  the  9th,  from 
the  Sulphur  Springs,  reached  me  on  Sunday,  the  25tlvof  the 
same  month.  I  was  truly  comforted  to  learn  that  the  waters, 
even  upon  so  short  a  trial,  had  proved  beneficial  to  you.  God 
grant  that  you  may  find  complete  relief-  from  them.  You  say 
nothing  of  Juba. 

Col.  M.  inquires  kindly  after  you;  so  have  many  others—^ 
Mr.  W.  M.  W.  His  father  I  have  not  seen  since  we  parted. 

Hearing  that  Capt.  B.  sets  out  for  the  Sweet  Springs  to 
morrow,  I  write  this  by  candle-light,  in  our  solitary  cabin, 
with  the  back  of  the  only  pen  in  the  house. 

God  bless  and  preserve  you,  niy-  son. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


Monday,       August^,  Thermometer  94° 

Wednesday,       "      21,  frost!  69°  highest  this  day. 

Monday,  "      26,  81° 

Thursday,          "      29,  frost!  60°  at  2  hours  by  sun. 

Monday,    September  2,     90°  90° 

Tuesday,  "        3,  at  7  P.  M.       85° 


180  LETTERS  OF 

I  wrote  you  by  T.  T.,  and  sent  two  letters— one  from  your 
father. 


LETTER  CXLIII. 

-Georgetown,  December  28, 1816. 

THE  enclosed  letter,  from  Mr.  C.,  will  probably  remind 
you  of  a  conversation  between  us,  the  day  before  St.  George 
embarked  for  Philadelphia.  I  have  now  been  here  eighteen 
days,  and  not  a  line  have  I  received  from  Virginia,  except 
T's.  and  M's.  letters.  I  say  from  Virginia,  because  I  have 
received  two  other  letters;  one  from  England,  written  by  Mr. 
Wilberforce,  on  the  subject  of  colonizing  the  free  blacks. 

We  have  had  delightful  weather  during  the  last  fortnight. 
It  reminds  me  of  affairs  at  home — particularly  the  carriage 
of  the  tobacco,  for  which  it  is  especially  favourable. 

My  health  has  been  very  indifferent  since  I  came  here;  but 
I  -think  I  have  derived  some  benefit  from  a  nightly  dose  of 
magnesia,  a  small  tea  spoonful. 

Let  me  hear  how  you  are.  I  am  here,  except  when  in  the 
house,  almost  as  much  alone  as  when  at  home. 

Farewell,  my  dear  Theodore. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  181 


LETTER  CXLIV. 

Georgetown,  Dec.  31,  1816. 

I  NEVER  received  a  letter  from  you,  my  dear  Theodore, 
that  gave  me  more  pleasure  than  your  last;  it  was  the  first,  al 
so,  of  the  23d.  Your  hymenial  and  sporting  intelligence 
were  highly  acceptable;  the  first,  as  you  conjecture,  altogether 
a  surprise  upon  me.  Give  to  the  bride  and  bridegroom  my 
cordial  congratulations  on  the  event:  I  know  not  how  to  offer 
them  to  my  worthy  old  neighbour — to  whom  present  me,  in 
the  most  friendly  terms.  Pray  let  me  know  whether  he 
will,  by  this  occurrence,  be  left  entirely  solitary.  I  am  sure 
that  if  he  had  had  the  choosing  of  his  son-in-law,  he  could 
not  have  been  more  highly  gratified  in  that  respect;  and  such 
is  his  affection  for  Lucy,  that,  I  am  sure,  not  a  thought  of 
himself  enters  into  his  mind.  Indeed,  he  is  fortunate  in  see 
ing  her,  before  he  leaves  this  world,  committed  to  the  pro 
tection  of  a  deserving  man — yet,  I  am  persuaded  that,  if  he 
live  alone,  he  will  not  live  long. 

You  forget,  that  when  I  mentioned  Traquair's  letter,  I  told 
you  that  the  boxes  were  locked,  and  that  the  keys  were 
hanging  in  the  north  closet.  All  the  boxes,  but  one,  contain 
books;  the  papers  are  in  the  other,  in  bundles,  alphabeted. 
The  letter  contains  a  design  for  a  fire  place,  and  is  wanted. 

As  for  the  hypo,  let  me  prescribe  broken  doses  of  Pigou  & 
Andrews'  preparation,  of  carbonated  nitre  and  sulphur,  with 
q.  s.  of  prepared  lead.  I  hope  you  will  not  expose  yourself 
in  the  practice  of  your  profession. 

God  bless  you,  my  son. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

P.  S. — I  have  been  interrupted  by  company.  You  say  no 
thing  of  Essex,  &c.,  and  little  Molly.  Are  you  aware  that 
you  are  becoming  careless  in  your  orthography:  "puzzle," 
with  one  z.  Also,  "ba#ed."  I  hope  you  will  not  find  my 
corrections  like  Wm.  Jenkins'  reproof  of  Molly  Jones. 


182  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXLV. 

Babel,  Jan.  14, 1817. 
Tuesday. 

No  letter  from  you,  my  dear  Theodore;  at  which  I  am  a 
good  deal  disappointed,  and  somewhat  concerned.  I  wrote 
yesterday,  acknowledging  yours  of  the  30th.  Your  exploits 
&  la  chasse,  have  been  made  known  to  all  the  courts  of 
Europe,  at  least  to  their  ministers,  so  far  as  the  great  and 
small  powers  are  represented  here — for  the  whole  corps  di 
plomatique  were  present  yesterday  when  I  read  the  extract 
of  your  letter  to  one  of  that  body,  at  the  hazard  of  being 
considered  as  one  carrying  on  a  treasonable  correspondence 
with  England. 

What  of  clover  seed?  Of  Spot  and  Roanoke? — one  or 
both  of  which  I  shall  want  very  soon.  Of  the  dogs?  And, 
though  last,  not  least,  of  old  Essex  &  Co.,  and  little  Molly. 

I  have  bought  a  fine  pipe  of  Madeira.  Did  Quashia  bring 
up  the  quarter  cask?  Remember  me  most  kindly  to  Colo 
nel  M. ;  also  to  C.,  S.,  and  their  families. 

Ever  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Our  friend  Dr.  R.,  of  Amelia,  has  been  here  dying  with 
the  gout. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH,  183 


LETTER  CXLVI. 

Babel,  Jan.  20, 1817. 
Monday. 

No  letter  from  you  to  day,  my  dear  Theodore.  The  date 
of  your  last  is  December  30th.  Pray  try  and  contrive  to 
send  your  letters  to  Petersburgh  or  Richmond,  or  any  place 
on  the  main  line,  by  private  hand. 

A  Mr.  Johnson,  (not  Jackson,)  of  Virginia,  took  occasion  to 
be  very  scurrilous  towards  me,  on  the  alleged  account  of  an 
expression  used  by  the  last  session,  and  repeated  a  few  days 
ago  on  the  compensation  law,  as  it  is  called.  Mr.  B.  seemed 
also  disposed  to  hold  offensive  language  on  the  same  subject, 
rising,  after  a  most  laughable  and  good-humoured  discourse 
of  R.,  (C's.  bull-calf,)  and  replying,  as  I  had  done,  to  what 
was  said  the  day  before.  I  was  informed  that  the  affair  was 
concerted,  and  that  I  was  to  stand  a  fire  along  the  whole 
line.  I  determined,  therefore,  to  tread  it  out;  and  will  en 
deavour  to  report  for  you  my  remarks,  and  send  them  by 
to-morrow's  mail.  Mean  while,  I  must  draw  a  check  for 
C.,  whose  receipt  please  to  take,  and  tell  him  that  the  money 
has  been  lying  idle;  but  I  wanted  to  see  whether  he  aud  P. 
would  not  write  about  their  own  affairs,  as  they  would  not 
about  mine — although  earnestly  requested  thereto.  Since 
Friday,  it  has  been  bitter  cold,  and  I  am  afraid  some  of  my 
poor  people  may  suffer.  No  doubt  there  is  ice  in  abun 
dance. 

Mr.  Secretary  D.  is  dead. 

Remember  me  kinkly  to  Colonel  M.,  and  send  me  a  copy 
of  your  meteorological  diary. 

Entirely  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH, 

C.  must  endorse  the  check. 


184  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXLVII. 

Georgetown,  Monday  Morning. 
Jan.  27, 1817. 

No  letter  from  you,  my  dear  Theodore,  since  that  of  De 
cember  30th.  If  I  do  not  find  one  when  I  get  to  the  house, 
I  shall  not  know  what  to  think.  Indeed,  that  is  my  present 
situation.  I  am  truly  uneasy.  Sometimes  I  think  you  have 
set  out  to  Tennessee,  to  see  some  sick  relation.  Then  I 
fancy  you  in  that  situation,  alone,  without  a  friend;  although 
I  should  rather  have  Essex  than  any  nurse  or  attendant  I 
ever  saw.  Then,  again,  I  reflect  on  my  want  of  success  in 
teaching  you  and  Tudor  (poor  Tudor!)  to  write  regularly  to 
me  when  you  were  boys,  or  to  descant  upon  the  topics  that 
were  most  interesting  to  me,  and  I  try  to  be  easy. 

A  letter  from  Harry  T.,  dated  Winchester,  Jan.  23d.  In 
stead  of  a  "fracture  of  a  process  of  the  scapula,"  his  case 
"  proves  to  be  a  very  unusual  dislocation  of  the  os  humeri.?r 
"Two  days  ago,  two  very  skilful  gentlemen  of  the  faculty 
attempted  its  reduction:  after  a  variety  of  efforts,  during 
three  hours,  aided  by  four  strong  men,  they  found  it  imprac 
ticable.  They  resolved  to  repeat  the  experiment  on  Satur 
day  next,  but,  in  the  mean  time,  I  have  resolved  upon  an 
other  procedure,  and  shall  set  out  to-morrow  for  Philadel 
phia,  and  place  myself  under  the  direction  of  Physick." 
(My  earnest  advice  to  him  three  weeks  ago,  when  I  first 
saw  him  lying  at  the  turnpike-gate,  at  Goshen;  for  although 
1  did  not  know  what  was  the  matter,  I  would  have  ventured 
my  life  that  the  individual  "Rushian?y  attending  him,  al 
though  the  boon  companion  of  Mr.  W.,  and  of  as  great 
fame  in  medicine  as  this  last  in  law,  knew  nothing  of  the 
case.  He  pronounced  that  there  was  neither  fracture  nor 
luxation,  and  that  H.  T.  would  be  well  in  a  short  time. 
When  asked  here,  I  told  every  body  his,  and  then  my  opi 
nion  j  and,  in  reply  to  the  enclosed  letter,  told  my  brother 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  185 

that  I  had  not  the  least  expectation  of  his  being  able  to  take 
his  seat  in  Congress  this  winter.    He  adds: — )  "In  his  skill 
I  may  expect  success,  if  it  can  be  commanded.     Evelina  will 
accompany  me,  as  I  find  her  aid  essential  to  me." 
Adieu! 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

I  have  given  F.  K.  one  of  my  mares;  and,  if  she  be  not 
in  prime  order,  shall  select  Everlasting  for  him:  if  not,  the 
little  gray  out  of  Telegraph,  unless  you  can  suggest  a  better. 
I  make  no  reservation,  except  of  Lady  B.,  her  filly,  and 
Duchess's  filly.  If  my  good  colts  and  fillies  are  starved 
this  winter,  I  shall  be  much  displeased,  unless  all  the  rest 
are  knocked  on  the  head.  If,  after  that  process,  there  is 
not  enough  provision,  I  must  be  content. 


LETTER  CXLVIII. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  4, 1817, 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  you  a  long  letter  yesterday  by  post — I  wish 
I  could  recall  it;  for  the  servant  of  my  colleague,  T.  N.,  is 
just  about  setting  out  for  his  master's  house,  and  will  pass  by 
Wyllie's,  or  Goode's.  I  took  the  precaution,  however,  to 
enclose  my  letter,  yesterday,  to  R.  G.,  of  Manchester:  that 
will  guard  against  its  lying  in  the  Richmond  office;  one  of  the 
great  causes,  indeed  the  chief  one,  of  delay.  I  cannot  help 
thinking,  from  my  having  received  your  last,  (the  26th,  post 
marked  the  27th,  reaching  me  on  the  1st  instant,  Saturday,) 
that  there  is  a  change  in  the  mail  establishment.  This  may 
have  caused  you  to  receive  no  letter  from  me  on  the  day  that 

24 


186  LETTERS  OF 

you  wrote  last,  (Sunday,  the  26th  of  January.)  So  much 
for  the  post  Mr.  N.  did  not  mention  to  me  his  servant's 
going,  until  last  evening,  and  I  was  then  too  much  exhaust 
ed,  by  severe  parliamentary  duty,  and  a  bad  sore  throat  and 
cold,  to  write.  The  weather  has  been  intensely  severe  since 
the  night  of  Friday,  the  17th  of  January,  with  the  exception 
of  one  or  two  days.  Saturday,  the  25th,  and  Sunday,  (the 
coldest  day  this  year  I  believe,)  the  26th,  were  exceedingly 
cold,  indeed;  and  since  that  period  we  have  not  had  a  day 
that  was  otherwise.  Saturday  and  Sunday  last  (1st  and  2d 
February)  were  not  unpleasant;  and,  in  the  evening  of  Sun 
day,  I  thought  we  were  going  to  have  a  thaw,  but  it  snowed 
costively  at  night,  with  a  whistling  north-wester;  and  it  has 
been  freezing  hard  ever  since.  I  dread  the  thaw.  The  Po 
tomac  is  frozen  over,  I  presume,  to  its  very  mouth.  It  was 
tight  at  Nominy,  (not  very  far  above,)  some  days  since.  It 
is  there  quite  salt,  (oysters  being  obtained,)  and  about  twelve 
miles  over.  The  Chesapeake,  I  have  no  doubt,  is  frozen 
across  at  Annapolis.  Loaded  wagons  cross  the  Potomac. 
Pray  send  me  your  journal:  I  mean  a  copy. 

Now,  what  do  you  think? — Henry  T's.  shoulder,  that  was 
at  first  neither  dislocated  nor  broken,  but  then  dislocated  by 
the  same  doctor,  (neither  physician  nor  surgeon;)  next,  by 
"  two  able  Winchester  physicians,"  pronounced  not  to  be 
dislocated,  but  fractured  in  the  corocoid  process  of  the  sca 
pula,  then,  by  the  same  "two  able"  leeches,  (reconsider 
ing  their  opinion,  like  Congress,  in  order  to  make  confusion 
worse  confounded,)  declared  to  be  a  dislocation,  unusual,  of 
the  os  humeri;  whereupon  the  said  "doctors,"  and  "four 
strong  men,"  put  the  said  patient  to  the  rack,  without  suc 
ceeding  in  tearing  asunder  all  the  muscles  and  ligaments. 
This  injury  has  been  decided,  by  P.,  W.,  and  D.,  (we  have 
now  got  to  the  court  of  appeals,  and  can  go  no  farther, — 
right  or  wrong,  the  case  is  decided,)  to  be  a  fracture  of  the 
os  humeri !  and  my  poor  brother  is  likely  to  he  able  to  attend 
Congress  before  the  end  of  the  session.  This  beats  Moliere, 
or  Le  Sage,  hollow. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  187 

Now,  my  dear  Theodore,  for  I  think  I  shall  never  call 
you  "  Doctor"  again,  on  the  receipt  of  this,  let  the  wagons 
set  out,  if  they  have  a  load,  for  Manchester;  if  not,  some 
trusty  hand,  (not  Paul,  but  little  Quashia,  or  Simon,)  must 
carry  down  Spot  and  Roanoke,  my  new  saddle  and  bridle, 
snaffle,  ditto,  my  boots,  that  M.  brought  me,  and  my  white 
leather  breeches.  My  portmanteau,  saddle,  and  the  pillion, 
straps,  &c.,  to  be  left  in  the  care  of  R.  J.,  or  M.  The  new 
saddle,  covered  with  a  blanket,  the  irons  and  stirrup  leathers, 
papered — that  is,  if  the  wagons  cannot  come;  then  let  it  be 
sent  in  a  box.  It  is  material  that  the  wagons  should  make 
their  trip  to  Richmond  before  the  frost  breaks  up;  the  roads 
are  now  good.  I  shall  write  this  day  for  plaster  of  Paris 
and  tar:  the  clover  seed  has  been  ready  these  two  months. 

You  have  not  said  a  word  about  the  dogs;  nor  in  your  last, 
of  the  household. 

My  best  regards  to  Colonel  M. 

Your  affectionate  and  grateful  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

A  letter  from  Rutledge,  of  the  4th.  He  had  not  then  re 
ceived  one  that  I  wrote  before  I  left  home,  and  put  into  the 
post-office  the  day  of  my  departure — or,  rather,  the  next 
morning,  Monday,  the  17th  of  December.  I  rather  incline 
to  believe  you  did  not  send  it  to  the  post-office  for  me. 
•flpropos,  there  is  in  my  room  a  letter  addressed  to  Oliver 
H.,  Esq.:  pray  enclose  it  me. 

Send  by  Mr.  N's.  servant  F.  K's.  mare.  Choose  for  him, 
and  send  her,  about  the  20th,  by  Simon,  to  Mr.  J.  N.  I 
except  only  the  English  mare,  and  Cornelia.  You  may  send 
Everlasting,  or  the  gray  daughter  of  Telegraph.  See  my 
former  letter  on  this  subject,  as  to  exceptions. 


LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXLIX. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  8,  1817. 

Saturday  Night. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  2d  was  put  into  my  hands  this 
morning,  just  as  I  was  about  to  make  my  last  dying  speech. 
To-morrow  you  will,  probably,  receive  my  letter  by  Tues 
day's  mail;  and,  more  probably,  that  by  Mr.  N7s.  servant. 
I  have  no  farther  request  to  make,  than  that  my  boots  may 
be  sent;  for  want  of  which,  through  Juba's  negligence,  I  am 
suffering. 

Your  memory  is  very  good  about  the  weather.     It  tallies 
with  my  memoranda — which  are  as  follows: — 

J817 — Jan.,  Friday  10,  warm;  hail  at  night,  turns  cold. 

Saturday  11,  very  cold.     Sunday  12,  coldest 

day,  to  this  date. 
Thursday  16,  mild.     Friday  17,  warm;  snow 

at  night,  turns  cold. 
%  Saturday  18 — Sunday  19,  colder  than  any  days 

preceding. 
Thursday  23,  snow.     Friday  24,  three  changes 

to-day;  cold. 
Saturday   25,  very   cold.      Sunday   26,   ditto; 

snow,  colder  than  ever. 

Monday  27 — 30,  bitter  cold.     Friday  31,  cold. 
Feb.,  Saturday  1,  mild.     Sunday  2,  milder;  snow  at 

night,  very  cold. 
Monday  3 — 5,  very  cold ;  last  the  coldest  day 

yet. 
Friday  7,  mild  in  comparison.      Saturday  8, 

milder. 

J)r.  B h  passed  through  this  city,  on  Tuesday  and 

Wednesday  last,  to  Richmond.    I  barely  saw  him.    The  clo 
ver  seed  is  at  T.  and  M's.    You  have  never  mentioned  whe- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  189 

ther  the  chestnut  gelding  colt  is  yet  lame  or  not.     I  must 
seal,  or  lose  to-morrow's  mail. 
Good  night. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

Dr.  B.  will  get  the  plaster  of  Paris. 
I  regret  your  solitude,  but  it  will  soon  be  broken  in  upon 
by  your  old  querulous  friend,  Matt  B. 


LETTER  CL. 

Georgetown,  Tuesday,  Feb.  11, 1817. 

I  SCRIBBLED  a  few  lines  to  you,  my  dear  Theodore,  on 
Saturday  evening  last,  at  which  time  I  was  labouring  under 
the  effects  of  fresh  cold,  taken  in  going  to  and  coming  from 
the  House,  where  I  delivered  my  valedictory.  It  was  nearer 
being,  than  I  then  imagined,  a  valedictory  to  this  world. 
That  night,  and  the  next  day  and  night,  I  hung  suspended 
between  two  worlds,  and  had  a  much  nearer  glimpse  than  I 
have  ever  yet  taken  of  the  other.  In  my  agony,  I  thought 
repeatedly  of  your  situation  when  I  bled  you.  I  am  barely 
able  to  write,  to  tell  you,  that  if  you  have  not  sent  off  Spot 
and  Roanoke,  to  detain  them,  unless  you  will  use  them  your 
self,  as  I  am  doubtful  whether  I  shall  be  able  to  travel  by  the 
end  of  the  session. 

No  farther  news  from  H.  T.     Adieu! 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

How  is  the  chestnut  gelding,  out  of  the  blaze-faced  S.  C. 
mare?  Take  care  of  the  newspapers;  particularly  the  E.  P, 
.and  Herald,  and  file  them. 


190  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLI. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  16, 1817. 
Sunday  Morning. 

YOUR  letter,  written  this  day  week,  reached  me  yesterday. 
Indeed,  all  three  of  your  last  have  arrived  regularly  on  the 
Saturday  morning  after  their  date — a  reformation  in  the  post- 
office  that  was  more  desired  than  expected. 

I  almost  envy  you  Orlando.  I  would,  if  it  were  not  John 
ny  Hoole's  translation;  although,  at  the  age  of  ten,  I  devoured 
that  more  eagerly  than  gingerbread.  Oh !  if  Milton  had  trans 
lated  it,  he  might  tell  of 

"  All  who,  since,  baptized  or  infidej 
Jousted  in  Aspromont  or  Montalban, 
Damasco,  or  Morocco,  or  Torbisond; 
Or  whom  Bisserta  sent  from  Afric  shore, 
When  Charlemagne,  with  all  his  peerage,  fell 
By  Fontarabia." 

Let  me  advise  you  to 

"Call  up  him,  who  left  half  told, 
The  story  of  Cambuscan  bold." 

I  think  you  have  never  read  Chaucer.  Indeed,  I  have 
sometimes  blamed  myself  for  not  cultivating  your  imagina 
tion,  when  you  were  young.  It  is  a  dangerous  quality,  howe 
ver,  for  the  possessor.  But  if  from  my  life  were  to  be  taken 
the  pleasure  derived  from  that  faculty,  very  little  would  re 
main.  Shakspeare,  and  Milton,  and  Chaucer,  and  Spenser, 
and  Plutarch,  and  the  Arabian  Night's  Entertainments,  and 
Don  Quixotte,  and  Gil  Bias,  and  Tom  Jones,  and  Gulliver, 
and  Robinson  Crusoe,  "and  the  tale  of  Troy  divine,"  have 
made  up  more  than  half  of  my  wordly  enjoyment.  To  these 
ought  to  be  added  Ovid's  Metamorphoses,  Ariosto,  Dryden, 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Southern,  Otway,  Congreve,  Pope's 
Rape  and  Eloisa,  Addison,  Young,  Thomson,  Gay,  Gold 
smith,  Gray,  Collins,  Sheridan,  Cowper,  Byron,  JEtSOp,  La 
Fontaine,  Voltaire, (Charles  XII.,  Mahomed,  and  Zaire j)Rous- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  191 

seau,  (Julie,)   Schiller,  Madame  de  Stael — but,  above  all, 
Burke*. 

One  of  the  first  books  I  ever  read  was  Voltaire's  Charles 
XII. ;  about  the  same  time,  1780-1, 1  read  the  Spectator;  and 
used  to  steal  away  to  the  closet  containing  them.  The  let 
ters  from  his  correspondents  were  my  favourites.  I  read 
Humphry  Clinker,  also;  that  is,  Win's  and  Tabby's  letters, 
with  great  delight,  for  I  could  spell,  at  that  age,  pretty  cor 
rectly.  Reynard,  the  fox,  came  next,  I  think;  then  Tales  of 
the  Genii  and  Arabian  Nights.  This  last,  and  Shakspeare, 
were  my  idols.  I  had  read  them  with  Don  Quixotte,  Gil 
Bias,  Quintus  Curtius,  Plutarch,  Pope's  Homer,  Robinson 
Crusoe,  Gulliver,  Tom  Jones,  Orlando  Furioso,  and  Thom 
son's  Seasons,  before  I  was  eleven  years  of  age;  also,  Gold 
smith's  Roman  History,  2  vols.  8  vo.,  and  an  old  history  of 
Braddock's  war.  When  not  eight  years  old,  I  used  to  sing 
an  old  ballad  of  his  defeat: — 

"  On  the  6th  day  of  July,  in  the  year  sixty-five, 
At  two  in  the  evening,  did  our  forces  arrive ; 
When  the  French  and  the  Indians  in  ambush  did  lay — 
And  there  was  great  slaughter  of  our  forces  that  day." 

At  about  eleven,  1784-5,  Percy's  Reliques,  and  Chaucer, 
became  great  favourites,  and  Chatterton,  and  Rowley.  I  then 
read  Young  and  Gay,  &c.:  Goldsmith  I  never  saw  until  1787. 

Pray  get  my  Germany  from  Mr.  Hoge,  or  Mr.  Lacy: 
they  have  it. 

I  have  scribbled  at  a  great  rate.     Do  thou  likewise. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

I  have  been  reading  Lear  these  two  days,  and  incline  to 
prefer  it  to  all  Shakspeare's  plays.  In  that  and  Timon  only, 
it  has  been  said,  the  bard  was  in  earnest.  Read  both — the 
first  especially. 


192  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLII. 

Georgetown,  Feb.  18,  181T. 

I  HAD  hardly  finished  my  last  letter  (Sunday,  the  16th)  to 
you,  when  I  was  seized  by  spasms  that  threatened  soon  to 
terminate  all  my  earthly  cares;  although  the  two  nights  since 
have  been  passed  almost  entirely  without  sleep,  I  am  much 
better.  Not  expecting  to  be  able  to  write,  I  asked  Charles 
G.,  yesterday,  to  write  to  you  for  me.  Be  not  alarmed  at  his 
letter;  I  am  in  no  immediate  danger — that  excepted  in  which 
all  things  mortal  stand. 

I  wish  you  had  said  a  word  about  the  weather  in  your  last 
costive  epistle;  indeed,  that  you  always  would  give  me  the 
journal  of  the  preceding  week.  Yesterday  afternoon,  we  had 
a  change  from  intense  frost  to  thaw.  The  ice  on  the  Potomac 
is  three  feet  thick,  and  extends  to  its  mouth.  Chesapeake  is 
tight,  as  low  as  Annapolis.  At  Havre,  the  ice  is  yet  thicker. 
North  River  is  tight,  opposite  to  New  York,  (its  very  mouth,) 
where  it  is  salt  as  the  ocean  brine,  and  the  tides  very  rapid; 
at  least,  as  much  so  as  the  current  of  our  rivers  in  a  flood. 
East  River,  still  more  rapid,  is  also  frozen.  It  is  nothing  but 
the  arm  of  the  sea  that  divides  Long  Island  from  New  York 
Island,  and  the  main.  I  consider  Friday  and  Saturday  the 
two  coldest  days  I  ever  felt.  Thermometer  at  zero,  and,  in 
some  places  hereabouts,  7°  below;  at  Boston,  by  the  last  ac 
counts,  28°  below  zero.  All  the  pheasants,  partridges,  &c., 
frozen  to  death. 

I  am  in  suspense  about  the  horses'  arrival  in  Richmond. 
Poor  Juba  lies  very  ill,  and  I  know  not  what  to  do.  Adieu  I 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

To  T.  B.  DUDLEY,  M.  D. 

Pray  plant  some  sweet-brier  and  swamp  roses. 
1817— Feb.,  Sunday  9,  snows  a  little.     Very  sick;  bled. 

Monday  10,  changeable;  turns  very  cold  after 
noon. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  193 

1817 — Feb.,  Tuesday  11,  very  cold.  Had  a  grinder  ex 
tracted. 

Wednesday  12,  bitter  cold;  wind  high  at  north 
west. 

Thursday  13,  colder  still;  wind  very  high  at 
north-west. 

"Friday  14,  coldest  day  ever  felt;  night  intolera- 


Coldest  48 
hours  ever- 
felt. 


ble;  no  fire,  and  no  number  of  blankets  will 
keep  me  warm. 
Saturday   15,    as  cold   as   yesterday;   cloudy; 


threatens  snow. 
Sunday  16,  very  cold;  cloudy;  clear;  cloudy; 

sleet,  at  night. 
Monday  17,  sleet;  very  cold;  sunshine;  cloudy; 

thaw. 
Tuesday  18,  it  has  hardly  frozen  during  the  last 

night;  fog. 

T.  M.  N.  has  been  very  polite,  and  even  kind  to  me.  His 
deportment  here  is  very  unexceptionable. 

No  farther  news  from  H.  T.  P.  says  he  has  been  so 
butchered  by  the  "doctors,"  that  he  can  never  have  the  use 
of  his  arm. 

I  am  taking  the  super  carbonated  natron — a  fine  prepa 
ration. 

Ministry — John  Q.  Adams,  Secretary  of  State. 

Shelby,  of  Kentucky,  Secretary  of  War. 
Crawford  will  remain  in  if  he  pleases. 
Crowninshield  remains. 
G.  W.  Campbell  goes  to  London, 


25 


194  LETTERS  O? 


LETTER  CLIII. 

Georgetown,.  Feb.  23,  1817. 

Sunday. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  of  the  17th  reached  me  yesterday  morn 
ing,  after  the  worst  night  that  I  have  had  since  my  indisposi 
tion  commenced.  It  was,  I  believe,  a  case  of  croup,  com 
bined  with  the  affection  of  the  liver  and  the  lungs.  Nor  was 
it  unlike  tetanus,  since  the  muscles  of  the  neck  and  back  were 
rigid,  and  the  jaw  locked.  I  never  expected,  when  the 
clock  struck  two,  to  hear  the  bell  again;  fortunately,  as  I  found 
myself  going,  I  despatched  a  servant  (about  one)  to.  the  apothe 
cary  for  an  ounce  of  laudanum.  Some  of  this  poured  down 
my  throat,  through  my  teeth,  restored  me  to  something  like 
life.  I  was  quite  delirious,  but  had  method  in  my  madness; 
for  they  tell  me  I  ordered  Juba  to  load  my  gun,  and  to  shoot 
the  first  "doctor"  that  should  enter  the  room;  adding,  they 
are  only  mustard  seed,  and  will  serve  just  to  sting  him.  Last 
night,  I  was  again  very  sick;  but  the  anodyne  relieved  me. 
I  am  now  persuaded  that  I  might  have  saved  myself  a  great 
deal  of  suffering  by  the  moderate  use  of  opium.  This  day 
week,  when  racked  with  cramp  and  spasms,  my  " doctors" 
(I  had  two)  prescribed  (or,  rather,  administered)  half  a  glass 
of  Madeira.  Half  a  drop  of  rain  water  would  have  been  as 
efficient.  On  Tuesday,  Wednesday,  and  Thursday,  I  at 
tended  the  House;  brought  out  the  first  day  by  the  explosion 
of  the  motion  to  repeal  the  internal  taxes ;  and  the  following 
days,  by  some  other  circumstances  that  I  will  not  now  relate. 
Knocked  up  completely  by  the  exertion.  Instead  of  recalling 
my  physicians,  I  took  my  own  case  boldly  in  hand ;  took  1^ 
grains  of  calomel — on  Thursday  night,  and  yesterday,  using 
mercurial  friction.  The  liver  is  again  performing  its  func 
tions,,  and  I  am,  this  evening,  decidedly  better  than  I  have 
been  since  the  first  attack,  which  I  may  date  from  my  fall  at 
Mr.  T's.,  on  Tuesday,  the  21st  of  January.  From  that  pe- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  195 

riod,  the  operations  of  the  liver  have  been  irregular  and  dis 
turbed.  I  conceive  the  lungs  to  be  affected  by  sympathy, 
with  the  other  viscus.  I  have  taken  from  five  5  to  10  grains 
of  the  hyper  carbonated  natron,  every  day,  most  generally  5 
grains,  in  a  table  spoonful  of  new  milk,  sometimes  repeating 
the  dose  at  night:  my  drink  has  been  slippery  elm  tea,  and 
lemonade.  Appetite  for  acids  very  strong.  Severe  pains  in 
the  fasciae  of  the  legs  and  the  tendons,  just  above  the  outer 
ankle  bone;  also,  knees,  &c.  &c.  1  have  taken  from  the  first, 
a  pill  of  1 J  grains  of  calomel,  about  two,  sometimes  three  times 
a  week;  and  several  doses  of  Cheltenham  salts.  I  have  used 
the  volatile  liniment  for  my  throat  and  limbs ;  also,  gargles  of 
sage  tea,  borax,  &c. 

Your  letter  is  so  ambiguously  worded,  that  I  know  not 
whether  you  have  received  mine,  countermanding  the  horses. 
I  am  a  plain  matter-of-fact  man,  and  had  rather  read  as  many 
repetitions  as  are  to  be  found  in  a  bill  in  chancery,  than  be  at 
a  loss  for  the  meaning.  I  keep  no  letter  book,  nor  even 
memorandum.  Several  of  my  letters,  it  seems,  have  not  come 
to  hand ;  but  I  cannot  recollect  their  contents,  by  their  dates: 
therefore,  know  not  which  have  miscarried. 

Mrs.  John  M.,  Mrs.  B.,  and  Mrs.  F.  K.,  have  been  very 
kind,  in  sending  me  jellies,  lemons,  &c.  &c.  Thomas  M.  N. 
has  been  extremely  attentive  and  obliging.  Mr.  K.,  of  New 
York,  Mr.  Chief  Justice,  Mr.  H.,  of  Maryland,  Mr.  M.,  of 
South  Carolina,  Mr.  B.,  of  Georgetown,  (I  need  not  nameF. 
K.)  M.  (no  longer  Abbe)  C.  de  S.,  and  D.,  have  been  very 
kind  in  their  attentions.  Mr.  M.  sent  me  some  old,  choice 
Madeira,  and  his  man  cook  to  dress  my  rice;  (a  mystery  not 
understood  any  where  on  this  side  of  Cape  Fear  river;)  send 
ing,  also,  the  rice,  to  be  dressed;  and  Mr.  Chief  Justice  came 
to  assist  me  in  drawing  up  my  will — which  I  had  strangely 
and  criminally  neglected,  for  some  time  past,  and  of  which 
neglect  I  was  more  strangely  admonished  in  a  dream. 

At  any  other  time,  I  should  have  regretted,  very  much, 
the  ruin  of  my  expected  saddle-horse;  at  present,  there  is  not 
much  prospect  of  my  wanting  him.  Decatur  has  just  beea 


196  LETTERS  OF 

talking  to  me  of  you  and  Roanoke ;  both  rider  and  horse  seem 
to  have  made  a  strong  impression  on  him.  P.,  also,  spoke 
of  you.  Had  he  known  we  lived  together,  he  would  have 
accompanied  you  to  Roanoke. 

If  this  dose  of  egotism  do  not  sicken  you,  aloes  will  not 
Farewell,  and  good  night. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
THEODORICK  BLAND  DUDLEY,  M.  D. 
Past  ten,  Sunday,  Feb.  23. 

Juba  has  been  very  ill. 

It  is  now  hailing  very  fast  Until  this  morning,  it  has  been 
warm  since  Monday.  Thermometer  here  has  been  6°  below 
zero  of  Fahrenheit;  at  Albany  and  Boston  14°  and  18°.  Bos 
ton  harbour  frozen  up  nine  miles  below  the  town,  where  it  is 
nothing  but  the  great  Atlantic — wagons  and  sleighs  passing 
over  to  Castle  Island  and  Fort  Independence. 

B.  writes  that  the  clover  seed  at  T.  and  M's.  ought  to  be 
in  the  ground. 

A  letter  from  Dr.  C.,  introducing  Mr.  James  C.  B.,  his 
brother-in-law.  (R.  W.  is  here.)  Also,  a  letter  from  good 
Dr.  L.  and  H.  T.  He  (H.  T.)  was  in  Philadelphia,  on  the 
16th,  and  intended  to  be  here  before  the  coronation.  Arm 
bound  to  his  body.  He  has  not  been  made  acquainted  with 
the  fate  of  his  arm,  as  his  spirits  were  very  low.  He  went 
with  Ryland  to  see  St.  George,  and  was  surprised  to  find  his 
madness  of  so  bad  a  type.  He  tears  every  thing  to  tatters 
that  he  lays  his  hands  on.  He  recognised  his  uncle,  at  once; 
but  the  moody  expression  of  his  countenance  indicated,  in 
Harry's  opinion,  incurable  insanity. 

The  doctors  are  killing  poor  G.,  "secundum  artem." 

Sunday  Morning,  Feb.  24. 

The  last  night  "was  winter  in  his  roughest  mood;" — from 
a  disagreeably  warm  day  and  evening,  it  turned  to  hail,  sleet, 
and  snow,  about  9  o'clock,  P.  M.  It  is  now  (10  o'clock,  P. 
M.)  snowing  very  fast  The  wind,  which  has  blown  a  storm 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  197 

in  gusts  and  flaws  all  night,  continues  very  high:  it  has  got 
round  from  north-east  to  north-west. 


LETTER  CLIV. 

Georgetown,  Tuesday,  March  4, 1817. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  you  a  few  lines  on  Sunday,  directed  to  the 
care  of  R.  G.,  Manchester,  with  an  earnest  request  to  the 
post-office  not  to  send  it  to  Winchester.  The  post-master, 
(here,)  a  decent  and  attentive  man,  assured  me  that  the  mis 
take  did  not  originate  with  him;  and  I  believe  him.  A  tool 
of  the  under  spur  leathers  here,  it  seems,  is  established  at 
Alexandria,  where  the  road  "  forks  "  to  Winchester. 

Since  my  last,  I  am  somewhat,  but  not  much,  better.  I 
purpose  taking  up  the  line  of  march  for  Richmond,  to-mor 
row;  where,  perhaps,  I  shall  arrive  on  the  day  that  you 
ought  to  receive  this  letter;  and  I  should  like  to  meet  Spot, 
to  take  me  through  the  sloughs,  and  over  the  ruts  and  gul 
lies,  between  that  place  and  Obslo.  I  shall  go  via  Farmville 
and  Prince  Edward  Court. 

The  failure  of  wells,  springs,  &c.,  are  not  peculiar  to  our 
country.  It  is  general  to  the  north;  where  Mr.  K.  tells  me, 
wells,  &c.,  have  failed  totally,  that  have  yielded  a  copious 
supply  of  water,  as  far  back  as  the  memory  of  man  can 
reach. 

I  write  these  few  lines  in  case  of  accident  to  my  last.  I 
wish  you  could  join  me  on  the  road.  I  shall  stay  but  one 
day  in  Richmond.  I  hope  you  ordered  Quashia  to  apply 
for  the  clover  seed  and  plaster  of  Paris.  Do  not  forget  the 


LETTERS  OF 

shrubs.     Adieu!     I  look  forward  with  joy  to  meeting  you 
again. 

Affectionately,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY,  M.  D, 


LETTER  CLV. 

Richmond,  Wednesday,  March  12, 1817. 

I  HAVE  no  expectation,  my  dear  Theodore,  that  this  will 
find  you  at  home — but,  as  my  last  letter  from  Georgetown 
may  have  miscarried,  although  yours  to  me  have  arrived 
very  regularly  for  the  last  four  or  five  weeks,  I  write,  in 
case  of  accidents,  to  apprize  you  that  I  have  got  thus  far  on 
my  way  home,  and  that,  (God  willing,)  I  shall  be  at  Prince 
Edward  Court,  on  Monday  next.  I  had  prepared  to  set  out 
to-day,  but  the  weather  deters  me.  It  is  now  snowing. 

No  mitigation  of  my  cruel  symptoms  took  place  until  the 
third  day  of  my  journey,  when  I  threw  physic  to  the  dogs; 
and,  instead  of  opium,  tincture  of  columbo,  hypercarbonate 
of  soda,  &c.  &c.,  I  drank,  in  defiance  of  my  physician's 
prescription,  copiously  of  cold  spring  water,  and  ate  plenti 
fully  of  ice.  Since  that  change  of  regimen,  my  strength  has 
increased  astonishingly;  and  I  have  even  gained  some  flesh, 
or  rather  skin.  The  first  day,  Wednesday  the  5th,  I  could 
travel  no  farther  than  Alexandria.  At  Dumfries,  where  I 
lay,  but  slept  not  on  Thursday  night,  I  had  nearly  given  up 
the  ghost.  At  a  spring,  five  miles  on  this  side,  after  crossing 
€happawamsick,  I  took,  upon  an  empty  and  sick  stomach, 
'upwards  of  a  pint  of  living  water,  unmixed  with  Madeira, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  199 

which  I  have  not  tasted  since.  It  was  the  first  thing  that  I 
had  taken  into  my  stomach  since  the  first  of  February  that 
did  not  produce  nausea.  It  acted  like  a  charm,  and  enabled 
me  to  get  on  to  B's.  that  night,  where  I  procured  ice.  I 
also  devoured  with  impunity  a  large  pippin,  (forbidden  fruit 
tome.)  Next  day  I  got  to  the  Oaks,  forty-two  miles.  Here 
I  was  more  unwell  than  the  night  before.  On  Sunday  morn 
ing,  I  reached  my  friends,  Messrs.  A.  &  Co.,  to  breakfast 
at  half  past  eight. 

Old  Dr.  F.,  whom  I  saw  in  Frederickburg,  while  my 
horses  were  baiting,  begged  to  be  most  particularly  remem 
bered  to  you.  The  old  man  spoke  of  you  with  a  warmth 
of  approbation  that  highly  gratified  me.  Mr.  W.  made  the 
most  affectionate  inquiries  after  you.  He  knew,  he  said,  my 
complaint  and  constitution,  having  been  a  martyr  to  it  (dys 
pepsia)  himself,  but  now  cured.  He  begged  me  to  consider 
water  as  poison  to  me. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  C.,  Dr.  and  Mrs*  B.,  and  Mrs.  B.,  with 
whom  I  spent  the  morning,  yesterday,  made  friendly  in 
quiries  about  you.  So  did  Mrs.  W.,  who  is,  "as  ladies  like 
to  be,  who  love  their  lords;"  and  will  present  him  in  a  very 
short  time  with  a  chopping  boy  or  girl,  perhaps  both. 

Adieu,  my  dear  Theodore. 

Your  affectionate  friend  and  kinsman, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  CLVI. 

Richmond,  Thursday,  March  13, 1817. 

You  will  not  be  surprised  at  this  date,  my  dear  Theodore^ 
when  you  call  to  mind  what  a  day  yesterday  was;  and  thi«^ 
too,  is  rainy  and  gloomy.  I  was  packed  for  my  journey. 


200  LETTERS  OF 

and  intended  to  have  breakfasted  this  morning  at  Clay  Hill, 
or  Obslo;  but  the  weather  obliges  me  to  keep  in  port. 

I  believe  that  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  the  famous  frigate, 
Paragon,  (a  thirty-two,)  struck  her  colours,  on  Tuesday  eve 
ning,  to  the  General  S. 

****** 

Do  not  let  Quashia  forget  to  call  at  T.  and  M's.,  and  to 
bring  up  the  box  containing  my  saddle,  &c.,  which  I  ordered 
him  to  carry  back  last  year;  but  he  neglected  it:  the  conse 
quence  is,  the  bits  and  Stirrup  irons  are  terribly  rusted. 

The  boots  were  so  carelessly  packed,  (the  top  of  one  be 
ing  only  half  covered  with  paper,)  that  the  bees-wax  and 
tallow,  with  which  they  were  dressed,  has  ruined  them.  The 
breeches  were  but  half  wrapped  up  in  the  towel,  but  they 
have  sustained  little  damage. 

I  mean  to  plaster  the  whole  of  the  pasture  field  of  corn, 
and  all  my  tobacco  and  clover. 

There  is  little  chance  that  this  letter  will  reach  you;  but 
the  trouble  of  writing  is  not  great — rather  a  pleasure,  to 
those  we  love.  I  dined  yesterday  with  M.,  who  lives  but  a 
square  off.  R.  K.  J.  was  there,  and  my  host,  Mr.  C.  He 
did  very  well  for  him.  Kitty  H.  is  married  to  Archy  H.y 
who  has  bought  Curies  for  $50,000.  I  hope  to  shoot  snipes 
with  you  very  soon,  if  you  have  any  Pigou  &  Andrews, 
and  shot.  Adieu. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Henry  C.  inquires  particularly  after  you.  His  winter  in 
Richmond  has  visibly  improved  him,  without  injuring  the 
frankness  of  his  manners.  He  returns  to  Charlotte  in  April 
or  May. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  201 


LETTER  CLVII. 

Saturday,  April,  12,  1817. 

I  HOPE,  my  dear  Theodore,  that  you  will  not,  on  my  ac 
count,  encounter  the  fatigue  of  a  ride  to  Prince  Edward 
Court.  At  the  moment  when  you  mentioned  your  intention 
of  meeting  me  there,  your  malady  did  not  occur  to  me.  I 
can,  without  material  inconvenience,  return  home  about  the 
last  of  next  week,  or  the  beginning  of  the  succeeding  one; 
and  we  can  go  together  to  Dr.  R's.,  if  you  are  not  too  much 
indisposed  to  take  the  journey :  he  expects  us  both,  I  know. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

T.  BLAND  DUDLEY,  M.  D. 


LETTER  CLVIIT. 

Bank  of  Virginia,  April  29,  1818. 

Wednesday. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

AFTER  old  Quashia  was  gone,  it  occurred  to  me  that 
there  might  be  some  articles  in  the  first  memorandum  that 
were  omitted  in  the  second.  On  comparing  them,  I  find 
two  of  this  description:  the  camphorated  tincture  of  opium, 
and  compound  tincture  of  rhubarb;  both  of  which  I  have 
ordered,  and  will  bring  with  me:  also,  the  tincture  of  aloes, 
which,  although  contained  in  both  lists,  the  apothecary  could 
not  procure.  As  I  frequently  heard  you  express  a  want  of 
this  medicine  in  your  own  case,  I  have  spurred  up  the  lean 

26 


202  LETTERS  OF 

vender  of  drugs,  and  the  sorry  jade  has  at  last  answered  my 
purpose.     This,  also,  I  will  bring  with  me. 

Yesterday  I  dined  with  M.  His  sister  is  an  intelligent, 
frank,  unaffected,  Scotch  lassie,  with  as  much  of  the  accent 
as  any  admirer  of  "  The  Antiquary,"  &c.,  could  desire.  I 
have  passed  one  evening  at  Mr.  B's.,  and  a  charming  one  it 
was:  to-day  I  dine  there. 

After  I  had  closed  my  letter,  by  Quashia,  I  sent  sundry 
other  articles;  among  them,  Mr.  C's.  picture — two  packages 
for  Randolph — a  kip  skin — the  handle  of  my  old  castors, 
and  some  other  matters,  which  my  bills  will  show. 

1  have  received  your  picture-frame  from  Dr.  G.,  with  a 
nice  glass,  which  I  hope  will  reach  home  unbroken.  I  have, 
too,  got  another  picture  of  Frank,  and  a  better  likeness  than 
the  firsj,  but  yet  not  so  good  as  G's.  If  I  do  not  hear  from 
you  by  to-morrow's  (rather  to-night's)  mail,  I  shall  be  disap 
pointed. 

Ever,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
DR.  DUDLEY. 

The  kindest  inquiries  are  made  after  you  by  Mrs.  B.,  Mrs. 
C.,  (who  is  now  gone  to  Europe,)  and  Mrs.  B. — Place  aux 
Dames.  R.  K.  J.,  Dr.  B.,  Mr.  B.,  Mr.  M.,  Mr.  T.,  cum 
multis  aliis,  have  asked  after  you,  and  wished  to  see  you. 

Thursday,  April  30, 1818. 

I  left  my  letter  open,  expecting  yours  of  the  27th,  which 
I  received  this  morning,  in  due  course  of  mail;  the  first  in 
stance  of  the  kind  that  I  remember.  Surely  there  must  be 
some  catenation  between  this  extraordinary  event  and  the 
late  unpropitious  search.  Frost  this  morning,  by  which  a 
man  might  be  tracked  through  the  street.  If  it  can  be  done, 
as  I  suppose  it  may,  without  injury  to  the  crop,  I  wish  one 
wagon  from  the  middle  quarter  and  ferrry,  to  go  down  with 
tobacco. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  203 


LETTER  CLIX.* 

August,  1818. 

I  CONSIDER  myself  under  obligations  to  you  that  I  can  ne 
ver  repay.  I  have  considered  you  as  a  blessing  sent  to  me 
by  Providence,  in  my  old  age,  to  repay  the  desertion  of  my 
other  friends  and  nearer  connexions.  It  is  in  your  power 
(if  you  please)  to  repay  me  all  the  debt  of  gratitude  that  you 
insist  upon  being  due  to  me;  although  I  consider  myself,  in 
a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  largely  a  gainer  hy  our  connexion. 
But,  if  you  are  unwilling  to  do  so,  I  must  be  content  to  give 
up  my  last  stay  upon  earth;  for  I  shall,  in  that  case,  send  the 


*  This  letter  was  written  during1  a  lucid  interval  of  alienation  of  mind; 
which,  for  the  first  time,  amounted  to  positive  delirium.  Fits  of  caprice 
and  petulance,  following  days  of  the  deepest  gloom,  had,  for  years  previous 
ly,  overshadowed  his  mind,  evincing  the  existence  of  some  corroding  care, 
for  which  he  neither  sought,  nor  would  receive,  any  sympathy. 

For  many  weeks,  his  conduct  towards  myself,  who  was  the  only  inmate 
of  his  household,  had  been  marked  by  contumelious  indignities,  which  it  re 
quired  almost  heroic  patience  to  endure ;  even  when  aided  by  a  warm  and 
affectionate  devotion,  and  an  anxious  wish  to  alleviate  the  agonies  of  such  a 
mind  in  ruins.  All  hope  of  attaining  this  end,  finally  failed;  and,  when  he 
found  that  I  would  no  longer  remain  with  him,  the  above  letter  was  written: 
it  is  almost  needless  to  say,  with  what  effect  I  remained  with  him  two  years 
longer. 

The  truth  and  beauty  of  the  eastern  allegory,  of  the  man  endowed  with 
two  souls,  was  never  more  forcibly  exemplified  than  in  his  case.  In  his  dark 
days,  when  the  evil  genius  predominated,  the  austere  vindictiveness  of  his 
feelings  towards  those  that  a  distempered  fancy  depicted  as  enemies,  or  as 
delinquent  in  truth  or  honour,  was  horribly  severe  and  remorseless. 

Under  such  circumstances  of  mental  alienation,  I  sincerely  believe,  (if  it 
may  not  appear  irreverent,)  that  had  our  blessed  Saviour,  accompanied  by 
his  Holy  Mother,  condescended  to  become  again  incarnate,  revisited  the 
earth,  and  been  domiciliated  with  him  one  week,  he  would  have  imagined 
the  former  a  rogue,  and  the  latter  no  bettter  than  she  should  be. 

On  the  contrary,  when  the  benevolent  genius  had  the  ascendant,  no  one 
ever  knew  better  how  to  feel  and  express  the  tenderest  kindness,  or  to 
evince,  in  countenance  and  manner,  gentler  benevolence  of  heart. 


204  LETTERS  OF 

boys  to  their  parents.  Without  you  I  cannot  live  here  at  all, 
and  will  not.  What  it  is  that  has  occasioned  the  change  in 
your  manner  towards  me,  I  am  unable  to  discover.  I  have 
ascribed  it  to  the  disease  *  by  which  you  are  afflicted,  and 
which  affects  the  mind  and  temper,  as  well  as  the  animal  fa 
culties.  In  your  principles  I  have  as  unbounded  confidence 
as  I  have  in  those  of  any  man  on  earth.  Your  disinterest 
edness,  integrity,  and  truth,  would  extort  my  esteem  and  re 
spect,  even  if  I  were  disposed  to  withhold  them.  I  love 
you  as  my  own  son;  would  to  God  you  were,  i  see,  I  think, 
into  your  heart:  mine  is  open  before  you,  if  you  will  look 
into  it.  Nothing  could  ever  eradicate  this  affection,  which 
surpasses  that  of  any  other  person  (as  I  believe)  on  earth. 
Your  parents  have  other  children:  I  have  only  you.  But  I 
see  you  wearing  out  your  time,  and  wasting  away,  in  this  de 
sert,  where  you  have  no  society  such  as  your  time  of  life,  ha 
bits,  and  taste  require.  I  have  looked  at  you  often,  engaged 
in  contributing  to  my  advantage  and  comfort,  with  tears  in 
my  eyes,  and  thought  I  was  selfish  and  cruel  in  sacrificing 
you  to  my  interest.  I  am  going  from  home:  will  you  take 
care  of  my  affairs  until  I  return? — I  ask  it  as  a  favour.  It 
is  possible  that  we  may  not  meet  again;  but,  if  I  get  more 
seriously  sick  at  the  springs  than  I  am  now,  I  will  send  for 
you,  unless  you  will  go  with  me  to  the  White  Sulphur 
Springs.  Wherever  I  am,  my  heart  will  love  you  as  long  as 
it  beats.  From  your  boyhood  I  have  not  been  lavish  of  re 
proof  upon  you.  Recollect  my  past  life. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 


*  Possibly,  hypochondriasis. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  205 

LETTER  CLX. 

Washington,  Dec.  17, 1819. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

ON  my  return  from  Baltimore,  the  day  before  yester 
day,  I  was  greeted  by  your  letter  of  the  5th.  Its  subject  is 
too  interesting  to  be  treated  as  it  deserves;  or,  indeed,  at  all 
in  the  hurry  of  Johnny's  departure.  You  will  agree  in  the 
necessity  of  this  step,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  reached  George 
town,  in  the  boat,  on  Tuesday  night — the  boys  the  evening 
afterwards,  with  the  servants.  On  Friday  morning,  the  boys 
and  myself  went  to  Baltimore  in  the  stage;  whence  I  re 
turned,  on  Thursday,  to  dinner. 

To  hear  of  your  happiness  gives  me  as  great  pleasure  as 
at  this  time  I  am  capable  of  enjoying.  Remember  me, 
kindly,  to  our  neighbours;  particularly  to  Colonel  M.  and 
Mr.  W. 

I  shall  write,  fully,  by  next  post;  which  will  reach  you 
soon  after  Johnny's  arrival,  if  not  before. 
Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  CLX  I. 

Washington,  Dec.  19,  1819. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

AT  length  1  have  obtained  a  respite  from  the  cloud 
of  petitioners,  applicants,  pamphleteers,  and  projectors  that 
beset  one,  at  the  commencement,  especially,  of  a  session  of 
Congress;  and  sit  down  to  converse  with  you  on  the  subject 


206  LETTERS  OF 

of  your  last  and  only  letter.  So  far  from  "  writing  with 
the  eloquence  of  Rousseau,"  I  fear  that  my  letter  will  wear 
an  air  of  constraint — the  effect  of  my  anxiety  to  avoid  making 
a  false  impression  on  your  mind,  and  of  my  own  impove 
rished  and  blighted  faculties  of  heart  and  understanding. 

I  have  never  supposed  you  blind  to  the  defects  of  my 
character;  neither  have  I  been  entirely  insensible  to  those  of 
your  own.  If  I  could  lay  bare  the  moral  anatomy  of  my 
heart,  I  would  not  shrink  from  your  inspection  of  all  its 
workings  towards  yourself,  from  the  moment  I  first  beheld 
you,  up  to  the  present  hour.  During  the  more  intimate  con 
nexion  which  has  subsisted  between  us  some  twenty  years 
past,  I  never  did  "  distrust  your  affection  for  me,5'  until  the 
summer  before  last.  The  surprise  and  anguish  which  then 
overwhelmed  me,  you  witnessed.  I  would  not  recall  such 
recollections,  (it  is  the  office  of  friendship  to  bury  them  in 
oblivion,)  but  to  put  you  in  possession  of  the  clew  to  my 
feelings  and  conduct.  I  viewed  you  as  one  ready  and  will 
ing,  from  the  impulse  of  your  own  pride,  to  repay  what  you 
considered  a  debt  of  gratitude,  whilst  you  held  the  creditor 
in  aversion  and  contempt,  that  you  could  not  at  all  times  re 
strain  yourself  from  expressing  by  signs,  and  even  by  words. 

On  our  meeting  between  this  place  and  Baltimore,  in  1811, 
I  would  have  given  half  what  I  possessed  to  have  obtained 
your  confidence.  From  that  time,  I  saw  that  there  was 
"  something  wrong" — but  to  interrogate  you,  would  have 
been  to  take  an  ungenerous  and  unmanly  advantage  of  our 
relative  position,  and  I  sought  your  confidence  in  no  other 
way  but  by  giving  you  mine,  without  reserve.  I  little  ima 
gined,  at  that  time,  that  the  letters  which  you  afterwards  put 
into  my  hands,  and  which  I  have  since  perused  with  entire 
approbation  of  their  contents,  regretting  that  I  am  now  in 
capable  of  taking  such  just  views,  (they  were  prompted  by 
a  tenderness  almost  parental,)  had  any  agency  in  producing 
the  reserve,  which  I  saw  and  deplored,  and  vainly  attempted 
to  remove. 

Enough  of  this. — It  is  the  office  of  friendship  to  accom- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH,  207 

modate  itself  to  mutual  and  incurable  infirmities.  To  hear 
of  your  happiness,  next  to  seeing  it,  will  give  me  as  much 
pleasure  as  I  am  now  capable  of  feeling.  My  apathy  is  not 
natural,  but  superinduced.  There  was  a  volcano  under  my 
ice,  but  it  is  burnt  out,  and  "a  face  of  desolation  has  come 
on,  not  to  be  rectified  in  ages,"  could  my  life  be  prolonged 
to  patriarchal  longevity.  The  necessity  of  "loving,  and 
being  beloved,3'  was  never  felt  by  the  imaginary  beings  of 
Rousseau  and  Byron's  creation  more  imperiously  than  by 
myself.  My  heart  was  offered  up  with  a  devotion  that  knew 
no  reserve.  Long  an  object  of  proscription  and  treachery, 
I  have  at  last  (more  mortifying  to  the  pride  of  man)  become 
one  of  utter  indifference.  But  these  are  the  chastenings  of 
a  tender  Father,  desirous  to  reclaim  his  lost  and  undone  child 
from  the  error  of  his  ways,  and  who  has  "  humbled  my  weak 
unthinking  pride  beneath  the  dispensations  of  a  mysterious 
wisdom."  To  that  wisdom,  I  bow  with  implicit  and  awful 
submission;  too  happy,  if  I  had  not  daily  and  hourly  cause 
to  upbraid  myself  with  the  vilest  ingratitude  and  disobe 
dience  to  my  heavenly  Corrector  and  Benefactor, 

I  wish  I  may  have  made  myself  entirely  intelligible.  If 
I  should  have  conveyed  to  your  mind  any  impression  that  I 
did  not  intend  to  make,  I  shall  deplore  it  as  the  result  of  the 
imperfection  of  language,  as  well  as  of  my  own  incapacity 
to  use  it. 

The  boys  left  Baltimore  on  Friday,  for  their  grandfather's. 
Tom  had  a  hearty  cry.  Randolph,  from  the  presence  of  nu 
merous  spectators,  was  barely  able  to  suppress  hid  tears,  and 
I  was  no  better  off.  How  is  C.? 

May  every  blessing  attend  you  here  and  hereafter!  Need 
I  sign  myself, 

Your  friend, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke? 

DR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 
Direct  to  Washington. 


208  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXIL 

Washington,  Dec.  21,  1819.. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  you  a  very  long  letter  the  day  before  yes 
terday,  which,  at  one  time,  I  had  thoughts  of  suppressing; 
and,  perhaps,  had  better  have  suppressed.  My  error  in  this 
case  has  not  been  intentional.  My  judgment,  as  well  as  my 
other  faculties,  has  become  much  impaired;  so  much  so,  that 
I  can  scarcely  turn  me  in  any  direction,  without  a  dread  of 
committing  some  wrong.  My  letter  from  Richmond  has, 
probably,  never  come  to  hand.  I  would  be  glad  to  hear  some 
thing  of  my  affairs  at  home;  although  I  left  it  without  a  desire 
ever  to  see  it  again.  For  the  first  time  in  my  life,  a  vague 
idea  of  quitting  it  for  ever  floated  through  my  mind — one 
that  my  engagements  will,  probably,  forbid  me  to  execute. 
I  would  not  leave  it  dishonourably. 

Here  I  find  myself  isole,  almost  as  entirely  as  at  Roanoke — 
for  the  quiet  of  which  (the  last  paragraph  to  the  contrary,  not 
withstanding,)  I  have  some  times  panted;  or,  rather,  to  escape 
from  the  scene  around  me.  Once  the  object  of  proscription, 
I  am  become  one  of  indifference  to  all  around  me;  and,  in  this 
respect,  I  am,  in  no  wise,  worse  off  than  the  rest — for,  from 
all  that  I  can  see  and  learn,  there  are  no  two  persons  here 
that  care  a  single  straw  for  one  another.  My  reception  is 
best  by  the  old  Jacobins  enrages — next,  by  the  federalists, 
who  have  abjured  their  heresies,  and  reconciled  themselves 
to  the  true  Catholic  church — worst  of  all,  by  the  old  minori 
ty  men,  white-washed  into  courtiers. 

My  harness  I  wish  altered  in  the  traces,  so  as  to  fit  the 
chair  at  B's.  in  Richmond.  The  bay  colt,  out  of  Brunette, 
I  intend  for  a  chair  horse;  the  gray  and  the  chestnut  mare  for 
the  saddle. 

I  shall  send  you  my  letters,  which  you  will  read,  except 
those  marked  "  private. "  You  will  find  in  the  papers  much 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  209 

amusement,  and  some  instruction.  Adieu!  That  the  dear 
est  wishes  of  your  heart  may  be  gratified,  is  my  earnest  prayer. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
T.  B.  DUDLEY. 

P.  S. — Lord  Byron  is  indisputably  the  author  of  Don  Juan. 
Murray,  of  Albemarle  street,  (his  publisher,)  remonstrated 
against  printing  it.  His  lordship  wrote  him,  for  answer, 
"that,  if  he  refused,  he  should  never  publish  for  him  again; 
that  the  Reviewers,  &c.,  had  set  him  upon  the  pinnacle  of 

fame,  and  that  by ,  they  should  now  read,  not  what 

they  liked,  but  what  he  pleased."  I  see  a  writer  in  the  En 
quirer  denies  it  to  be  his  production.  The  above  I  have  from 
the  most  authentic  source. 


LETTER  CLXIII. 

Washington,  January  21,  1820. 
Friday. 

ON  my  return  home  last  night,  after  dining  abroad,  I  found 
the  enclosed  note.  Gen.  S.  is  in  earnest,  in  his  civilities  to 
you.  He  expressed  in  his  countenance,  as  well  as  in  his  lan 
guage,  the  greatest  mortification  at  your  sudden  departure. 

To-day  we  hear  Mr.  Pinkney  without  fail.  He  announced 
it  himself,  yesterday,  on  moving  the  adjournment.  Of  course, 
he  has  the  floor  as  soon  as  the  question  comes  up,  and  the 
house  will  be  crowded  to  suffocation.  I  go  to  hear;  and 
shall  maintain  my  seat  against  the  combined  forces  of  the  la 
dies,  who  entre  nous  have  no  business  in  legislative  halls,  or 
courts  of  justice.  Mad.  Roland  might  have  saved  her  pretty 
head  from  t\\t  gallant  Frenchmen,  if  she  had  not  put  on  the 
breeches,  (or,  rather,  put  them  off,)  and  turned  sans  culottes. 

27 


210  LETTERS  OF 

I  agree  entirely  with  Mad.  de  Stael,  that  the  liberty  which 
women  enjoy  in  France,  is  only  the  effect  of  the  indifference 
of  the  men;  and  a  cause  of  it  too — as,  she  says,  the  Turk, 
who  locks  up  his  wife,  shows,  at  least,  that  he  puts  some  va 
lue  upon  her.  So  soon  as  the  sex,  leaving  her  own  peculiar 
province,  encroaches  upon  that  of  man,  all  her  privileges  are 
put  in  jeopardy. 

By  this  time,  I  suppose,  you  are  in  Richmond;  and,  on  the 
whole,  you  have  had  very  good  weather  for  your  journey. 
Let  me  know  all  about  it.  I  sometimes  hear  of  Harry  T., 
through  his  correspondents,  Messrs.  C.,  &c.  To  me  he  ne 
ver  writes — nor  does  L. 

Remember  me  to  the  Doctor  and  Mrs.  B.  in  the  most  af 
fectionate  terms.  I  shall  write,  until  Monday,  to  Richmond. 
Let  me  know  of  your  movements.  I  heard,  yesterday,  from 
Barksdale.  Do  not  forget  my  best  remembrance  to  all  at 
Obslo  and  Clay  hill. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  CLXIV. 

Washington,  Feb.  4,  1820. 
MY  DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  AM  blind,  and  almost  dead.  The  vertiginous  affec^ 
tion  of  my  head,  arises  from,  but  is  not  caused  by,  an  indis* 
tinct  vision — the  effect  of  which  is  indescribable.  It  obliged 
me  to  give  up,  yesterday,  one  of  the  best  arguments  that  I 
ever  conceived,  but  of  which  I  was  delivered  by  forceps;  or, 
rather  by  Caesarean  operation.  The  after-birth  is  yet  behind. 
Your  letters  from  Bucks  and  Obslo  are  received.  Do  net 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  21 1 

expect  to  hear  from  me  as  heretofore,  for  the  reason  above; 
but  remember  my  anxiety  until  C.  is  removed,  unless  it  be 
indispensable  to  retain  him. 

Take  lodgings  in  Richmond,  and  we  will  settle  the  other 
point  at  our  leisure. 

Essex  and  Hetty?     Pheasants,  &c.  ? 
Yours,  ever, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 
DR.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  CLXV. 

Saturday,  Feb.  5,  1820. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

You  will  have  received  my  scarcely  legible  letters.  I 
hope  you  will  remove  to  Richmond  forthwith.  Have  the 
goodness  to  explain  what  you  meant  by  having  seen  my  note 
upon  note.  I  hope  none  of  the  earwigs  and  utterers  of  false 
news  have  attempted  to  hurt  me,  with  my  young  friend 
Henry  C.,  or  his  nephew. 

G.  T.  applied  to  me  to  know  whether  it  was  true,  as  his 
wife  was  told  in  Richmond,  that  I  had  written  to  R. ! ! ! 
abusing  him,  (G.  T.,)  as  the  author  of  "The  Fudge  Fami 
ly."  I  told  Mr.  T.,  very  serenely,  that  although  I  might 
plead  to  the  jurisdiction  of  the  court,  (his  wife  not  giving  up 
the  author  of  this  story  which  came  "so  directly"  to  her;) 
yet,  as  I  was  not  disposed  to  be  exigeant,  I  referred  him  to 
Mr.  R.,  and  could  give  him  written  authority  and  request  to 
show  any  thing  he  might  have  in  my  writing.  I  also  cau 
tioned  him  against  a  similar  application  to  me  in  future,  as  I 
should  meet  it  with  a  flat  refusal. 

When  you  get  married,  as  I  hope  and  trust  you  will,  I 
shall  drop  our  correspondence,  so  far  as  it  is  confidential. 


212  LETTERS  OF 

Burn  this  and  all  others  as  fast  as  you  receive  them.  The 
wretches  here,  not  content  to  make  me  answerable  for  what 
I  do  say,  get  bastard  wit,  in  order  to  lay  it  at  my  door. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH. 

A  letter  from  Colonel  M.  has  relieved  me  for  the  present, 
on  the  subject  of  C. 


LETTER  CLXVI. 

Washington,  Feb.  7,  1820. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

I  WROTE  you,  a  few  days  ago,  perhaps  the  last  letter 
that  you  will  ever  receive  in  my  handwriting;  for  it  has 
pleased  Him  who  gave  me  sight,  to  take  it  away  almost  en 
tirely.  I  must  endeavour  to  be  thankful  for  the  little  that 
is  left  me  of  this  blessing,  as  well  as  for  other  innumerable 
and  greater  blessings.  The  state  of  the  roads  is  such,  that 
I  anticipate  the  mail  by  a  day,  for  fear  of  miscarriage,  in  re 
questing  that  my  horses  and  Johnny  may  be  ready  to  set 
out  at  a  moment's  warning,  I  mean  Roanoke,  as  well  as  the 
carriage  horses.  About  this  time,  I  suppose,  they  are  just 
off  a  hard  journey.  Tell  Johnny  that  I  expect  to  find  them 
in  high  condition,  and  shall  take  no  apologies,  by  condition 
he  knows  that  I  do  not  understand  fatness,  but  grooming.  I 
have  no  opinion  of  stalled  beeves  making  good  draft  cattle. 
Have  the  goodness  to  get  Clay  equipped  for  coming  on  with 
Johnny;  I  shall  probably  send  or  carry  him  to  Philadelphia. 
You  may  imagine  how  anxious  I  am  to  hear  from  you,  and 
the  topics  about  which  I  feel  so  much  interest;  take  them  in 
the  following  order: — 

Your  own  affair — Ca. — CK — Plantation  affairs,  generally— 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  213 

Essex  and  Hetty Nancy,  &c. — Pheasants Partridges — 

Summer  ducks — fruit  trees — Sir  Archy  Colt  and  Phillis — 
blood  stock,  generally — tobacco. — Look  at  this  letter  when 
you  write  yours. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

His 

X 

mark. 

I  wrote  you  some  days  ago  that  I  had  received  Colonel 
M's.  letter:  thank  him  for  it  in  my  name,  and  remember 
me  to  him  and  all  our  neighbours;  if,  indeed,  we  may  be 
said  to  have  any — I  mean  W.,  Cl.,  Co.  S.,  &c. 


LETTER  CLXVII. 

Feb.  8, 1820. 

I  WROTE  you  yesterday  about  my  horses.  As  the  south 
ern  mail  has  failed  this  morning,  I  wrote  again  to  take  two 
chances.  I  want  the  horses  put  in  the  highest  condition;  by 
which  Johnny  will  understand  not  fatness  so  much  as  groom 
ing.  The  carriage  horses  and  Roanoke  to  be  ready  to  set 
out  at  a  minute's  warning.  C's.  shirts  to  be  made,  and  he 
equipped  for  a  journey.  Tell  Tom  M.  to  get  the  tobacco 
down  as  soon  as  possible. 

Return  me,  under  cover,  the  numbers  of  the  Ploughboy 
that  I  sent  you.  You  have,  I  fear,  received  the  last  letter 
in  my  handwriting.  Remember  me  to  Colonel  M.  and  all 
friends. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


214  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXVIII. 

Washington,  Jan.  8,  1821. 
Monday. 

IN  consequence  of  the  snow  storm,  your  letter  of  the 
5th,  did  not  arrive  in  time  for  me  to  answer  it  by  yesterday's 
mail.  That  of  December  27th  has  lain  by  me  for  more  than 
a  week,  during  which  it  was  my  constant  intention  to  write 
"to-morrow."  But  the  state  of  my  spirits  has  rendered 
even  that  a  formidable  undertaking.  I  received,  also,  yes 
terday,  a  letter  from  Dr.  B.,  which,  now  that  my  hand  is  in, 
I  will  try  and  thank  him  for  to-day. 

I  am  not  determined  what  I  shall  do  with  myself  at  the 
close  of  the  session,  nor  about  any  thing  else,  except  the 
irremediable  hopelessness  of  my  case. 

You  do  not  mention  whether  you  have  received  the  horse 
from  Roanoke.  If  you  have,  and  an  occasion  offers,  I  wish 
you  would  sell  it  for  what  it  will  bring.  You  can  send  for 
another. 

I  enclose  a  check  on  Petersburg.  I  wish  you  to  stand  on 
no  ceremony  with  me. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

Remember  me  to  Gilmer,  Bouldin,  Leigh,  &c.  &c. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  215 


LETTER  CLXIX. 

Washington,  Feb.  8,  1821. 
Thursday. 

DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  came  to  hand  the  evening  before  last,  and 
I  was  very  desirous  of  acknowledging  its  receipt  yesterday, 
but  was  incapable,  from  a  severe  catarrhal  affection  that  has 
confined  me  to  my  room  for  the  last  six  days,  attended  by 
pains  in  the  back,  &c.,  which  hardly  permitted  me  to  remain 
a  minute  in  one  posture.  I  write,  now,  only  to  do  away 
your  uneasiness.  I  am  sensibly  better  this  morning;  but  my 
lungs  and  eyes  are  yet  greatly  affected.  I  have  been  obliged 
to  omit  attending  to  several  letters  on  business;  also,  several 
from  Joseph  C.  and  his  brother — who  inquire  kindly  after 
you. 

Remember  me  to  such  as  care  to  ask  about  me,  and  excuse 
these  few  lines,  for  I  am  in  no  condition  to  write. 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  CLXX. 

Washington,  Feb.  17,  182L 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  was  received  too  late,  yesterday,  to  ac 
knowledge  it  by  return  of  mail,  and  this  morning,  by  nine 
o'clock,  I  had  to  attend  the  committee  on  poor  Burwell's  fu 
neral,  which  left  me  not  a  moment's  time  to  spare. 


216  LETTERS  OF 

I  am  afraid  that  Richard  C.  labours  under  some  pulmona 
ry  affection,  as  you  do  not  announce  the  cause  of  his  visit  to 
the  south  of  France.  Poor  H.!  he  is  a  sacrifice  to  the  un 
precedented  state  of  the  times.  I  hope  enough  will  be  left 
to  provide  comfortably  for  his  widow  and  the  helpless  part 
of  his  family. 

Paul  C.,  who  has  been  here  about  a  week,  just  now  called 
to  see  me.  He  tells  me  that  little  John  M.  (our  quondam 
neighbour)  is  dead,  and  that  Dr.  V.  and  his  brother  Samuel  are 
married,  the  former  to  a  widow  D.,  of  Lynchburg,  and  the 
other  to  a  Miss  R,,  of  Lexington.  Dr.  H.  T.  is  here,  and 
P.  C.  informs  me,  vibrating  between  Charlotte  and  Washing 
ton  City  as  a  future  theatre  of  practice. 

I  admire  your  taste  on  the  subject  of  Maria  G.,  that  was. 
Ask  Mrs.  B.,  if  the  youngest  of  the  musical  Ls's.  did  not 
remind  her  of  Mary  Anne,  at  the  same  age.  My  best  re 
gards  to  her.  I  regret  to  hear  of  F's.  ill  health ;  but  I  some 
times  think  she  may  have  a  happy  escape  from  an  indiffe 
rent  or  worthless  husband,  and  the  cares  and  pains  of  a  family. 
Give  my  best  love  to  her  and  E. 

You  make  no  mention  of  L.  Remember  me  to  him,  and  the 

B a  and  C s,  whenever  you  see  them:  also,  to  Gilmer, 

Bouldin,  Rootes,  and  Richard  Morris;  and,  though  last,  not 
least,  Tom  Miller. 

Farewell!  and  may  every  good  attend  you. 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Mrs.  R.  has  presented  Charles  with  another  chopping  boy. 
Frank  K.  has  just  left  me:  he  asked  after  you  very  kindly. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  21  ? 


LETTER  CLXXI. 

Sunday  Morning. 

I  AM  much  gratified  by  your  letter  of  Friday,  which  1 
have  just  received.  The  sporting  intelligence  is  quite  ac 
ceptable.  I  take  great  interest,  even  now,  in  the  subject 
Last  autumn  I  enjoyed  myself,  on  several  occasions,  shoot 
ing  both  woodcocks  and  partridges.  By  "John  Sim,"  of 
Hanover,  I  suppose  you  mean  a  son  of  Nicholas  Syme,  an 
old  fellow  sportsman  of  mine.  There  is  one  of  your  good 
shots,  (1  need  not  name  him,)  with  whom  I  hope  you  do  not 
associate.  "Tell  me  your  company,"  &c.  I  have  no  doubt 
that  you  had  better  go  out  with  C.,  once  a  week,  than  have 
a  certain  description  of  persons  haunt  your  chambers.  I 
learn,  for  the  first  time,  that  John  has  left  Cambridge.  Re* 
member  me  to  the  whole  firm- — Mrs.  A.  &  Co.,  and  tell  her 
that,  when  I  find  I  am  about  to  die,  I  mean  to  be  carried,  if 
practicable,  to  her  house  to  be  nursed. 

You  mention  nothing  of  Leigh.  Has  William  been  to  see 
his  brother?  Do  you  hear  from  Amelia?  Below  you  have 
a  draft,  on  Johnson's  house,  for  three  hundred  dollars.  God 
speed  you !  The  air  of  abruptness  in  this  letter,  is  occasioned 
by  my  wish  not  to  postpone  a  reply  until  to-morrow,  and  the 
mail  is  in  the  future  in  rus,  as  old  Lilly  hath  it. 

Dr.  B.  can,  and  will,  show  you  a  scratch  from  me  of  this 
day's  date.  Write  about  every  thing  and  every  body,  and 
seal  with  wax. 

Sincerely,  yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Remember  me  to  all  friends. 


26 


218  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXXII. 

Washington,  Feb.  28, 1821. 

YOUR  letter  found  me,  as  usual,  in  bed.  Yesterday,  I  was 
very  agreeably  surprised  by  one  from  E.  C.  It  is  not  my 
fault  that  my  sister's  children  have  been  brought  up  stran 
gers  to  me.  I  had  the  truest  regard  for  their  mother,  and 
have  omitted  no  opportunity  that  has  been  allowed  me  to  cul 
tivate  their  acquaintance,  and  attach  them  to  me.  You  say 
nothing  of  F's.  health.  Who  is  the  Mr.  B.,  H.  R.  late 
ly  married?  Is  it  poor  H's.  son-in-law?  I  am  grieved  for 
the  condition  of  his  family:  I  mean  H's.  They  have  been 
used  to  affluence  and  ease.  What  a  reverse  awaits  them ! 

Yesterday,  I  got  a  letter  from  Mrs.  B.,  which  gives  me 
very  gratifying  accounts  of  the  boys.  She  also  mentions 
Tom  L's.  improved  health.  Let  Watkins  L.  know  this.  I 
wrote,  yesterday,  in  reply  to  E's.  letter;  but  when  you 
see  her  or  Fanny,  give  my  love  to  them  both.  I  have  not 
heard  a  syllable  of  St.  George  since  he  left  Richmond.  I  am 
impatient  to  get  away  from  this  sink  of  iniquity  and  corrup 
tion.  Remember  me  to  all  friends — the  C's.,  (I  am  truly  sor 
ry  to  hear  of  Richard's  situation,)  Br.,  Be.,  L.,  Bo.,  G.,  T. 
M.,  R.,  and  R.  M.  God  bless  you. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

MR.  T.  B.  DUDLEY. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  219 


LETTER  CLXXIII. 

Roanoke,  June  10,  1821. 
Sunday. 

I  AM  concerned  to  perceive,  from  your  letter  of  the  4th, 
which  I  have  just  now  received,  that  your  change  of  residence 
has  not  been  attended  by  the  consequences  which  were  na 
turally  to  have  been  expected  from  it.  It  is,  however,  proba 
ble  enough. that  you  wrote  under  the  influence  of  a  temporary 
depression  of  spirits,  which  surrounding  circumstances  will 
soon  dispel,  if  it  be  not  already  dissipated.  You  do  not  over 
rate  the  solitariness  of  the  life  I  lead  here.  It  is  dreary  beyond 
conception,  except  by  the  actual  sufferer.  I  can  only  acqui 
esce  in  it,  as  the  lot  in  which  I  have  been  cast  by  the  good 
providence  of  God;  and  endeavour  to  bear  it,  and  the  daily 
increasing  infirmities,  which  threaten  total  helplessness,  as 
well  as  I  may.  "Many  long  weeks  have  passed  since  you 
heard  from  me:"  And  why  should  I  write?  To  say  that  I 
had  made  another  notch  in  my  tally? — or  to  enter  upon  the 
monotonous  list  of  grievances,  mental  and  bodily,  which  ego 
tism  itself  could  scarcely  bear  to  relate,  and  none  other  to  lis 
ten  to.  You  say  truly:  "there  is  no  substitute"  for  what 
you  name,  "that  can  fill  the  heart."  The  bitter  conviction 
has  long  ago  rushed  upon  my  own,  and  arrested  its  functions. 
Not  that  it  is  without  its  paroxysms,  which,  I  thank  Heaven, 
itself,  alone,  is  conscious  of.  Perhaps  I  am  wrong  to  indulge 
in  this  vein;  but  I  must  write  thus,  or  not  at  all.  No  punish 
ment,  except  remorse,  can  exceed  the  misery  I  feel.  My 
heart  swells  to  bursting,  at  past  recollections;  and,  as  the  pre 
sent  is  without  enjoyment,  so  is  the  future  without  hope;  so 
far,  at  least,  as  respects  this  world. 

I  found  the  horse  here  when  I  got  home,  and  was  told  Mr. 
Sim's  wagonner  left  him.  I  sincerely  wish  that  you  would 
cultivate  a  more  cheerful  temper  of  mind  than  you  appear  to 
possess,  or  than  this  effusion,  of  one  worn  down  by  disappoint- 


LETTERS  OF 

menis,  and  disease,  and  premature  old  age,  is  calculated  to  in 
spire. 

May  God,  in  his  mercy,  protect  and  bless  you;  and  may 
you  never  experience  the  forlorn  and  desolate  sensations  of 
him  who  has  endeavoured,  with  whatever  success,  to  prove 
your  friend. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 

PR.  DUDLEY, 

I  wrote  the  ahove  yesterday.  Perhaps  you  may  think  that 
I,  too,  have  acquired  the  "knack  of  writing  letters,  and  put 
ting  nothing  into  them;"  hut,  really,  I  have  nothing  to  put 
in.  You  say  nothing  of  Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.,  of  L.,  the  C's., 
Mrs.  B.,  G.  or  R.;  not  to  mention  my  nieces. 

The  true  cure  for  maladies  like  yours,  is  employment, 
"Be  not  solitary;  be  not  idle!"  was  all  that  Burton  could  ad 
vise.  Rely  upon  it,  life  was  not  given  us  to  be  spent  in 
dreams  and  reverie,  but  for  active,  useful  exertion;  exertion 
that  turns  to  some  account  to  ourselves,  or  to  others  —  not  la 
borious  idleness.  (I  say  nothing  of  religion,  which  is  between 
the  heart  and  its  Creator.)  This  preaching  is,  I  know,  foolish 
enough:  but  let  it  pass.  We  have  all  two  educations;  one  we 
have  given  to  us  —  the  other  we  give  ourselves;  and,  after  a 
certain  time  of  life,  when  the  character  has  taken  its  ply,  it 
is  idle  to  attempt  to  change  it. 

If  I  did  not  think  that  it  would  aggravate  your  symptoms, 
I  would  press  you  to  come  here.  In  the  sedulous  study  and 
practice  of  your  profession,  I  hope  you  will  find  a  palliative, 
if  not  a  complete  cure,  of  your  moral  disease.  Yours  is  the 
age  of  exertion  —  the  prime  and  vigour  of  life.  But  I  have 
"fallen  into  the  sear,  the  yellow  leaf:  and  that  which  should 
accompany  old  age,  as  honour,  love,  obedience,  troops  of 
friends,*  I  must  not  look  to  have;  but,  in  their  stead,  -  ." 

You  say  my  friends  in  Richmond  would,  no  doubt,  be  glad 


"<•' 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  221 

to  see  me  there.  To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  find  such  visits 
very  unsuitable  to  the  straitened  state  of  my  finances;  and, 
upon  the  whole,  I  am,  perhaps,  best  here.  Habit,  after  a  lit 
tle  while,  enables  us  to  bear  any  thing.  Here  I  am  free  from 
apprehensions  of  being  in  other  folks'  way,  and  try  to  bear 
my  lot  without  flinching;  yearning,  sometimes,  after  human 
converse,  so  as  to  make  acceptable,  for  the  moment,  the  pre 
sence  of  people,  without  one  congenial  sentiment  or  princi- 
pie. 

Miss  Margaret  C.  was  married  on  Tuesday,  the  14th  of 
May,  to  Mr.  L.  I  have  been  there  once  to  dinner,  and  re 
turned  the  same  day.  John  and  Henry  have  dined  here,  and 
staid  all  night.  I  have  dined  once  at  Col.  C's.  On  his  way 
to  Charlotte  Court  House,  1  saw  Mr.  L.  for  the  first  time  since 
my  return  from  Washington.  Mr.  B.  and  Peyton  R.  came 
home  with  me  from  court,  (where  I  was  obliged  to  go,)  and 
staid  the  next  day  with  me.  I  have  since  been  closely  con 
fined,  under  a  course  of  mercury;  and  the  weather  has  been 
so  cloudy  and  threatening,  although  we  have  little  actual  rain, 
that  I  dare  not  venture  out.  Sims  1  have  not  seen.  The 
hawks  have  caught  both  my  summer  ducks.  Nancy  is  very 
ill.  Old  Essex,  too,  is  laid  up  with  a  swelled  jaw,  from  a  ca 
rious  tooth.  This,  I  believe,  is  the  sum  of  our  domestic 
news,  except  that  old  Dido  is  plus  caduque  que  son  maitre. 
I  am  my  own  physician,  and  feel  my  way  in  the  dark,  like 
the  rest  of  the  faculty.  Adieu. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 

Monday  Morning, 


222  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXXIV. 

Roanoke,  June  24, 1821. 
Sunday. 

YOUR  letter  of  the  21st  reached  me  to-day,  together  with 
one  from  Ryland,  under  your  cover.  I  received,  at  the 
same  time,  another  letter  from  him,  dated  as  far  back  as  the 
14th  of  March,  from  Miiledgeville,  addressed  to  your  care; 
that  address  is  scratched  out,  and,  in  a  very  clumsy  hand, 
"Pr.  Edward,  care  Mr.  P.  Randolph,'7  inserted:  the  "Rich 
mond  "  post-mark  is  dated  "April,"  but  I  cannot  make  out 
the  day.  Poor  Ryland  is  afflicted  with  a  quartan  ague  that 
he  brought  from  the  south  to  Virginia,  and  carried  back  with 
him.  I  heard,  also,  to-day,  from  Edward  R.,  who  has  just 
set  out  for  Kentucky.  This  is  my  first  intelligence  from 
Amelia,  since  I  left  it.  Mrs.  R.,  of  Obslo,  is  much  afflicted 
with  a  cough.  Miss  F.  A.  is  to  be  married  to  William  E. 
This  is  the  amount  of  his  news. 

You  do  not  mention  what  "Springs"  Mr.  C.  is  carrying 
his  daughters  to.  I  am  much  concerned  to  hear  of  F's. 
situation;  and  yet,  poor  thing!  it  is,  perhaps,  a  blessed  es 
cape  from  worse  afflictions:  "  never  by  a  rake  suspected,  ne 
ver  by  sot  neglected."  I  am  very  sorry,  also,  to  hear  of 
Mr.  B's.  ill  health.  You  say  nothing  of  G.;  and  I  hear  no 
thing  from  him  or  D.  B.,  which  last  circumstance  rather  mor 
tifies  me.  Leigh  has  long  given  up  writing  to  me.  Neither 

do  you  mention  the  C s,  in  whose  welfare  I  feel  a  strong 

interest. 

You  speak  of  my  leaving  this  place,  as  if  it  were  in  my 
power  to  do  it  at  will.  Unless  I  could  find  a  purchaser  for 
it,  I  must  remain  a  prisoner  here,  probably  for  the  brief  re 
mainder  of  my  life;  although  entirely  unable  to  attend  to 
my  affairs.  I  have  twice  mounted  my  horse  and  rode  down 
to  Colonel  C's.,  and  staid  all  night,  being  unable  to  endure 
the  want  of  society  any  longer.  On  one  of  these  occasions, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  223 

I  saw  his  lately  married  daughter.  The  very  thought  of 
meeting  with  any  person  who  cares  a  straw  for  my  existence, 
tightens  my  chest  and  swells  my  throat.  It  gives  me  some 
what  the  same  sensation  that  I  felt  after  poor  Randolph's 
death,  the  first  time  I  took  the  road  to  Obslo,  below  B's.  If 
I  did  not  fear  tiring  out  the  welcome  of  my  friends,  I  would 
go  to  Amelia  for  a  week  or  ten  days:  and  yet  the  return 
would  be  but  so  much  the  more  bitter.  Use  reconciles  me 
to  it  a  little;  but  the  first  few  days  after  I  get  home,  are  al 
most  intolerable.  God's  will  be  done! — This  is  a  better  re 
liance,  believe  me,  than  "  submission  to  the  power  of  desti 
ny,"  of  which  you  speak. 

I  have  seen  W.  M.  W.,  once,  by  accident,  on  the  road:  ra 
ther,  I  rode  as  far  as  his  lane,  and  met  him.  Asked  him  to 
dine  with  me;  but  Mrs.  W.  was  in  daily  expectation  of  the 
sage  femme,  and  he  was  obliged  to  watch  the  incubation. 

If  ever  I  get  as  far  as  Richmond,  I  shall  accept  your  offer 
of  a  bed.  Did  you  get  the  gun-locks?  They  were  left  at 
Mrs.  K's.  for  you,  on  the  parlour  table.  About  this  time, 
you  have,  probably,  seen  P.  R.  He  was  to  go  to  Richmond 
on  Tuesday  last.  He  and  Mr.  B.  spent  the  day  after  Char 
lotte  Court,  here.  He  is  always  in  such  a  hurry,  and  so 
much  engaged,  that  I  am  deterred  from  visiting  him  as  often 
as  I  otherwise  should  do.  This  letter  is  written  with  a  pen 
of  your  own  making,  that  has  not  been  mended,  and  has 
done  all  my  writing  for  nine  months;  besides,  a  good  deal 
for  W.  L. 

I  pray  God  to  keep  and  bless  you. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

My  best  regards  to  Dr.  and  Mrs.  B.  I  heard  to-day  from 
C:  he  is  well — at  school  on  Elk  Ridge. 

You  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  John  M.  is  doing  well.  He 
has  called  once,  on  his  way  to  Halifax,  Ct,  and  I  slightly  ex 
pected  him  to-day  j  but  he  has  not  come. 


224  LETTERS  OF 

Tuesday  Morning. 

Colonel  C.  was  here  yesterday.  I  suspect  he  will  find  it 
in  his  heart  to  give  two-thirds  of  its  value  for  the  ferry  quar 
ter.  I  have  made  him  an  offer,  and  he  has  taken  time  to 
consider  of  it.  This  sale  will  relieve  my  most  pressing  dif 
ficulties.  It  is  true  that  it  will  injure  the  value  of  this  place, 
which  is  already  scant  of  timber. 


LETTER  CLXXV. 

Roanoke,  July  24,  1821. 
Saturday. 

As  my  wagon  goes  to-day  to  Petersburg,  I  avail  myself 
of  it  to  thank  you  for  your  letter  of  the  6th,  if,  indeed,  this 
old  pen,  made  and  mended  to  a  stamp  by  yourself,  will  ena 
ble  me  to  do  it. 

I  am  well  aware  (and  have  long  been  so)  of  the  character 
of  the  people  you  guard  me  against.  Odious  as  it  is,  I  think 
it  differs  somewhat  to  its  advantage  from  that  of  the  idle  and 
improvident,  which  is  equally  dishonest  and  more  contemp 
tible.  Whatever  advantage  these  people  gain  over  me,  it  is 
with  my  eyes  open;  for  I  know  that  to  deal  with  them  at 
all,  is  to  suffer  imposition.  But  I  have  no  motive  to  husband 
my  resources.  If  I'leave  enough  to  pay  my  debts,  I  am  sa 
tisfied.  Here  I  am  yearning  after  the  society  of  some  one 
who  is  not  merely  indifferent  to  me,  and  condemned,  day  af 
ter  day,  to  a  solitude  like  Robinson  Crusoe's.  But  each  day 
brings  my  captivity  and  exile  nearer  to  their  end. 

Rely  upon  it,  you  are  entirely  mistaken  in  your  estimate 
of  the  world.  Bad  as  it  is,  mankind  are  not  quite  so  silly 
as  you  suppose.  Look  around  you,  and  see  who  are  held  in 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  225 

the  highest  esteem.  I  will  name  but  one-^-Mr.  Chief  Jus 
tice.  It  is  not  the  "rogue"  who  gains  the  good  opinion  of 
his  own  sex,  or  of  the  other.  It  is  the  man,  who  by  the  ex 
ercise  of  the  faculties  which  nature  and  education  have  given 
him,  asserts  his  place  among  his  fellows;  and,  whilst  useful 
to  all  around  him,  establishes  his  claim  to  their  respect,  as 
an  equal  and  independent  member  of  society.  He  may 
have  every  other  good  quality  under  heaven;,  but,  wanting 
this,  a  man  becomes  an  object  of  pity  to  the  good,  and  of 
contempt  to  the  vile.  Look  at  Mr.  Leigh,  his  brother  Wil 
liam,  Mr.  Wickham,  Dr.  B^  &c.  &c.,  and  compare  them 
with  the  drones  which  society  is  impatient  to  shake  from 
its  lap. 

Mr.  Macon  and  Mr.  Edwards  were  with  me  four  days 
last  week:  they  left  me  this  day  week.  Sam  waits.  Fare 
well! 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke, 


LETTER  CLXXVL 

Roanoke,  Aug.  5,  1821. 

I  SHOULD  not  be  able  to  summon  spirits  to  reply  to  your 
letter,  were  it  not  for  a  remark  it  contains  on  Mr.  M.,  which- 
I  believe  to  be  unjust,  as  it  obviously  is  most  injurious  to  his 
character.  Indeed,  I  think  a  very  little  reflection  on  that  of 
General  E.,  (from  your  own  description  of  it,)  might  induce 
you  to  ascribe  his  conduct  to  some  other  cause  than  the  in 
stigation  of  a  man  of  the  highest  probity,  and  one,  too,  who 
has  shown  as  great  a  disregard  for  money  as  is  consistent 
with  honesty  and  independence.  That  he  wrote  the  will,  is 
no  proof  (not  even  presumptive)  that  he  excited  or  foment- 

29 


226  LETTERS  OF 

ed  a  spirit  of  unforgiveness  in  the  testator  towards  an  absent 
child;  an  act  worthy  of  a  demon.  Mr.  L.  wrote  Mrs.  R's. 
will,  but  it  is  by  no  means  such  a  will  as  he  would  have  ad 
vised.  Would  it  be  right  in  me  to  ascribe  the  tenor  of  the 
will  to  him? 

I  happen  to  know  more  about  Mr.  M's.  sentiments,  in  re 
lation  to  the  unhappy  feuds  in  that  family,  than  you  proba 
bly  can  do,  and  from  the  most  direct  source.  I  believe  I 
hinted  something  of  this  to  you  once  before;  and  I  have  no 
hesitation  in  pronouncing  that  you  have  been  misled  into  a 
belief  that  does  injury  to  him.  Of  the  other  gentleman  I 
know  nothing,  at  least,  in  relation  to  that  affair,  and  can, 
therefore,  say  nothing. 

This  morning's  mail  brings  the  news  of  little  Bathurst 
Randolph's  death.  Harriet  died  three  weeks  before  him! 
The  situation  of  the  childless  mother  is,  I  fear,  one  that 
would  render  death  desirable,  even  in  the  opinion  of  her 
friends. 

God  bless  you. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

William  Coleman  died  on  the  17th  July.  The  Colonel, 
John,  and  Maria,  set  off  to-morrow  for  the  Springs.  I  have 
become  seasoned  to  solitude,  and  find  company  unwelcome, 
unless  it  be  that  of  some  one  whom  I  particularly  like. 


LETTER  CLXXVII. 

Washington,  Dec.  9,  182(T. 

AT  length,  my  dear  Theodore,  your  letter  of  the  1st  of 
August  is  received,  (post  marked  "  Charlotte  Court  House, 
November  28.")  I  hope  you  do  not  think  I  mean  to  retain 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  227 

this  money,  which  I  would  put  under  this  cover,  if  I  had 
not  too  much  experience  of  the  mail. 

My  health  is  as  deplorably  bad  as  it  ever  was,  except  the 
spring  of  1817.  I  have  crawled  out  in  consequence  of  the 

M question,  but  am  incapable,  as  well  as  unwilling, 

to  take  a  part  in  it.     I  am  glad  to  hear  that  you  spend  your 
time  so  agreeably.    Mine  is  spent  in  unintermitting  misery. 

When  you  see  Dr.  or  Mrs.  B.,  present  me  to  them  in  the 
most  friendly  terms;  also  F.  G.,  L.,  the  C's.,  Mrs.  B,  and 
Mrs.  R. 

Tell  Dr.  B.  that  I  received  his  letter  this  morning,  and 
will  thank  him  for  it  when  I  have  strength  to  do  so.  If  I 
survive  this  session,  I  will  embark  in  March  for  some  better 
climate:  mean  while,  my  affairs  at  home  go  to  absolute  ruin. 
I  shall  leave  a  power  with  Mr.  L.  of  Halifax  to  sell  all  I 
have — indeed,  he  has  one  unrevoked,  but  while  I  am  in  the 
country,  he  declines  acting  on  it.  God  bless  you. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


LETTER  CLXXVIIL* 

Washington,  Dec.  14,  1820. 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  the  12th:  with  what 
sensations  I  read  it,  you  can  judge  better  than  I  can  describe. 
I  hope  you  will  not  leave  Virginia;  and  above  all,  for  a  cli 
mate  the  most  noxious  to  your  particular  habit.  My  heart 
gushes  over  towards  you.  To  establish  yourself  in  your 


*  This  letter  is  an  answer  to  one  from  me,  communicating  my  intention  of 
making  a  voyage  to  the  East  Indies,  and  was  the  cause  of  my  giving  up  the 
intention. — D. 


228  LETTERS  OF 

profession,  where  you  are,  requires  only  a  little  time  and  pa 
tience.  You  are  surrounded  by  respectable  persons,  to  whom 
you  are  known,  and  by  whom  you  are  respected;  with  whom 
you  can  associate  on  terms  of  equality  and  freedom.  This 
is  no  light  advantage — not  to  be  given  up  but  upon  the  most 
cogent  considerations.  The  cloud  that  overhangs  Richmond 
will  pass  away:  mean  while,  consider  me  your  banker;  and 
if  your  pride  revolt  at  the  obligation,  I  will  consent  to  re 
imbursement  out  of  the  first  fruits  of  your  practice.  But  it 
ought  not  so  to  revolt,  because  it  will  wound  the  already 
bruised. 

Tell  Harry  T.  that  I  learned  yesterday,  for  the  first  time, 
that  he  was  in  Richmond.  God  bless  him,  and  you  too,  my 
dear  Theodore. 

Your  friend,  if  ever  there  was  one, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Remember  me  to  all  that  care  for  me — particularly  to 
Mr.  B. 


LETTER  CLXXIX. 

Washington,  Dec.  18, 1821. 

Tuesday. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

YOUR  letter  reached  me  yesterday:  since  then  I  have 
been  excruciated  with  rheumatism.  The  very  sensible  de 
cay  of  all  my  faculties  of  body  and  mind,  more  especially 
of  sight,  touch,  memory,  and  invention,  renders  writing  ex 
tremely  irksome  to  me,  and  admonishes  me  of  the  indis 
cretion,  (not  to  say  folly,)  of  lingering  on  the  public  stage, 
until,  perhaps,  I  shall  be  hissed  off.  My  part,  however,  of 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  229 

a  mute,  does  not  require  much  power,  since  it  attracts  no 
notice;  and  he  who  does  not  offer  himself  to  the  observation 
of  mankind,  may  well  hope  to  escape  their  censure.  Never 
theless,  my  object  now  is  petere  honestam  demissionem. 

I  refer  you  to  Dr.  B.  for  my  adventures  by  flood  and  field. 
Mr.  S.  of  Missouri  informed  me  yesterday  that  Tom  had  at 
last  got  his  gun  locks,  which  I  hope  he  will  make  turn  to 
some  account  among  the  savages  of  Boone's  Lick.  They 
are  all  good  locks,  and  a  part  of  them  of  the  highest  finish. 

I  met  Mrs.  T.  and  poor  Mrs.  R.  beyond  Hanover  Court 
House.  These  are  some  of  the  very  few  people  in  this 
world,  by  whom  I  have  been  treated  with  kindness,  under 
every  circumstance  of  my  unprosperous  life;  and  when  I 
forget  them,  may  my  God  forget  me.  B.,  too,  has  been  un 
affectedly  and  disinterestedly  kind  to  me,  andJI  hope  I  have 
been  able  to  make  him  some  return  for  it.  He  is  resolved 
to  sell  out,  at  whatever  loss;  and  to  remove  from  a  circle  in 
which  he  must  share  the  general  ruin,  in  case  he  should  re 
main.  The  mail  is  closing.  Remember  me  kindly  to 
Mrs.  K. 

Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

You  mention  the  want  of  employment  in  your  profession. 
No  man  ever  did  get  practice  in  any  profession  who  did  not 
seek  it,  who  did  not  show  a  strong  desire  for  it.  Now,  at 
the  hazard  of  your  displeasure,  I  must  tell  you  what  I  heard 
this  summer: — One  of  your  brethren  told  a  gentleman  of  my 
acquaintance,  "that  you  were  too  fond  of  your  gun  for  a 
medical  man."  I  also  heard  of  your  making  an  appoint 
ment  to  shoot  at  the  coal-pits,  and  leaving  word  with  your 
servant  that  you  had  gone  to  see  a  patient. *  This  I  did  not 
believe:  but  the  consequences  of  establishing  a  reputation  as 
a  sportsman,  must  be  serious  to  a  medical  man. 

*  It  was  false. 


230  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXXX. 

Washington,  Dec.  21, 1820. 

I  WISH  I  had  it  in  my  power  to  make  a  more  suitable  re 
turn  for  your  letters;  but  my  nerves  are  shattered,  and  the 
climate  is  truly  Cimmerian.  We  are  more  than  dull  here — 
we  are  gloomy.  Last  night,  we  lost  another  of  our  members: 
Mr.  Slocum,  of  North  Carolina.  I  have  been  meditating  a 
Christmas  visit  to  Oakland,  but  the  weather  has  interposed  its 
veto.  Mean  while,  our  "  mess  "  is  dispersing  itself  to  Phila 
delphia,  &c.,  leaving  me,  as  usual,  in  the  minority. 

Remember  me  to  all  who  care  for  me.  I  need  not  specify 
them.  Tell  Gilmer  that  I  received  his  letter  of  the  18th,  a 
few  minutes  since,  and  thank  him  sincerely  for  it.  Mr.  T. 
and  Mr.  S.,  of  New  York,  have  read  his  pamphlet,  and  ex 
pressed  very  great  delight  at  it.  He  would  not  be  displeased 
at  the  warmth  with  which  they  commend  the  style,  the  re 
search  and  argument  of  the  author,  in  which  they  heartily 
concur.  It  is,  at  present,  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  K.,  of  New 
York. 

If  T.  be  in  Richmond,  ask  him  "if  he  has  forgotten  me?" 
God  bless  you.  Let  me  hear  from  you  as  often  as  conve 
nient. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH,  231 


LETTER  CLXXXI. 

December  26,  1820. 

MR.  BURRILL,  the  most  useful,  if  not  the  most  able  mem 
ber  of  the  Senate,  died  last  night,  after  a  few  days'  indisposi 
tion.  I  write  from  my  bed.  Mr.  Macon  advises  me  to 
leave  this  place  as  soon  as  practicable.  There  is  certainly  a 
state  of  atmosphere  here  fatal  lo  invalids.  Be  so  good  as  to 
announce  to  the  Enquirer  the  death  of  Mr.  Burrill,  of  Rhode 
Island. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 
DR.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  CLXXXII. 

Washington,  Dec.  30,  1821. 

YOTTR  letter  of  the-  20th,  has  lain  several  days  on  my  table. 
The  difficulty  of  writing,  produced  by  natural  decay,  is  so  in 
creased  by  the  badness  of  the  materials  furnished  by  our  con 
tractors,  (who  make  the  public  pay  the  price  of  the  best,)  that 
I  dread  the  beginning  of  a  letter.  At  this  time,  it  requires- 
my  nicest  management  to  make  this  pen  do  legible  execu 
tion. 

So  true  is  your  remark,  that  I  have  tried  to  strike  roof 
into  some  of  the  people  around  me — one  family,  in  particu 
lar;  but  I  found  the  soil  too  stony  for  me  to  penetrate,  andr 
after  some  abortive  efforts,  I  gave  it  up — nor  shall  I  ever  re 
new  the  attempt,  unless  some  change  in  the  inhabitants  should 
take  place. 

The  medical  gentleman,  whom  you  suppose  to  be  actuated 


232  LETTERS  OF 

by  no  friendly  spirit  towards  you,  made  the  observation  in 
question,  to  one  whom  he  believed  well  disposed  towards  you; 
and  he  mentioned  it  to  another,  of  the  same  description,  who 
told  it  to  me,  I  do  not  believe  that  the  remark  extended  be 
yond  us  three. 

One  of  the  best  and  wisest  men  I  ever  knew,  has  often  said 
to  me  that  a  decayed  family  could  never  recover  its  loss  of 
rank  in  the  world,  until  the  members  of  it  left  off  talking  and 
dwelling  upon  its  former  opulence.  This  remark,  founded  in 
a  long  and  close  observation  of  mankind,  I  have  seen  verified, 
in  numerous  instances,  in  my  own  connexions — who,  to  use 
the  words  of  my  oracle,  "will  never  thrive,  until  they  can 
become  'poor  folks:7" — he  added,  " they  may  make  some 
struggles,  and  with  apparent  success,  to  recover  lost  ground; 
they  may,  and  sometimes  do,  get  half  way  up  again;  but  they 
are  sure  to  fall  back — unless,  reconciling  themselves  to  cir 
cumstances,  they  become  in  form,  as  well  as  in  fact,  poor 
folks." 

The  blind  pursuit  of  wealth,  for  the  sake  of  hoarding,  is  a 
species  of  insanity.  There  are  spirits,  and  not  the  least  wor 
thy,  who,  content  with  an  humble  mediocrity,  leave  the  field 
of  wealth  and  ambition  open  to  more  active,  perhaps  more 
guilty,  competitors.  Nothing  can  be  more  respectable  than 
the  independence  that  grows  out  of  self-denial.  The  man 
who,  by  abridging  his  wants,  can  find  time  to  devote  to  the 
cultivation  of  his  mind,  or  the  aid  of  his  fellow-creatures,  is  a 
being  far  above  the  plodding  sons  of  industry  and  gain.  His 
is  a  spirit  of  the  noblest  order.  But  what  shall  we  say  to  the 
drone,  whom  society  is  eager  to  "shake  from  her  encum 
bered  lap  ?" — who  lounges  from  place  to  place,  and  spends 
more  time  in  "  Adonizing"  his  person,  even  in  a  morning, 
than  would  serve  to  earn  his  breakfast? — who  is  curious  in 
his  living,  a  connoisseur  in  wines,  fastidious  in  his  cookery; 
but  who  never  knew  the  luxury  of  earning  a  single  meal? 
Such  a  creature,  "sponging"  from  house  to  house,  and  al 
ways  oh  the  borrow,  may  yet  be  found  in  Virginia.  One 
more  generation  will,  I  trust,  put  an  end  to  them;  and 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  233 

their  posterity,  if  they  have  any,  must  work  or  steal,  di 
rectly. 

Men  are  like  nations.  One  founds  a  family,  the  other  an 
empire — both  destined,  sooner  or  later,  to  decay.  This  is  the 
way  in  which  ability  manifests  itself.  They  who  belong  to 
a  higher  order,  like  Newton,  and  Milton,  and  Shakspeare, 
leave  an  imperishable  name.  I  have  no  quarrel  with  such 
as  are  content  with  their  original  obscurity,  vegetate  on  from 
father  to  son;  "whose  ignoble  blood  has  crept  through  clod- 
poles  ever  since  the  flood  " — but  1  cannot  respect  them.  He 
who  contentedly  eats  the  bread  of  idleness  and  dependence  is 
beneath  contempt.  I  know  not  why  I  have  run  out  at  this 
rate.  Perhaps  it  arises  from  a  passage  in  your  letter.  I  can 
not  but  think  you  are  greatly  deceived.  I  do  not  believe  the 
world  to  be  so  little  clear-sighted. 

What  the  '< covert  insinuations"  against  you,  on  your  ar 
rival  at  Richmond,  were,  I  am  at  a  loss  to  divine.  I  never 
heard  the  slightest  disparagement  of  your  moral  character; 
and  I  know  nobody  less  obnoxious  to  such  imputations. 

When  you  see  the  C's.,  present  my  best  wishes  and  re 
membrance  to  them  all.  I  had  hoped  to  hear  from  Rich 
ard.  He  is  one  of  the  young  men  about  Richmond,  with 
whom  it  is  safe  to  associate.  Noscitur  e  Sorio  is  older  than 
the  days  of  Partridge;  and  he  who  is  the  companion  of  the 
thriftless,  is  sure  never  to  thrive:  tavern  haunters  and  loun 
gers  are  no  friends  to  intellectual,  moral,  or  literary  improve 
ment,  any  more  than  to  the  accumulation  of  wealth. 

1  have  seen  nobody  that  you  know  but  Frank  K.  and  Gen. 
S.  The  last  asked  particularly  after  you.  That  you  may 
prosper  in  this  life,  and  reach  eternal  happiness  in  the  life  to 
come,  is  my  earnest  prayer. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Remember  me  to  F.  G.  and  Mr.  R.  Is  he  to  marry 
Mrs.  B.? 

30 


234  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXXXIII. 

Washington,  Jan.  17, 1822. 
Thursday. 

YOUR  letter  of  the  day  before  yesterday,  was  brought  in 
a  few  minutes  ago,  and  I  have  read  it  over  my  coffee.  I  am 
afraid  that  (not  expecting  two  letters  in  succession  from  me) 
you  may  have  omitted  to  apply  for  my  last  in  time  to  send 
the  truss  for  Jemboy,  by  the  post-man,  to-morrow. 

I  sincerely  hope  you  will  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  all  in 
tercourse  with  the  person  referred  to  by  both  of  us.  His 
character — long  equivocal — has,  at  last,  become  openly  infa 
mous.  He  has  been  reduced  in  his  circumstances,  not  by 
mere  negative  qualities,  or  a  false,  but  more  pardonable  hu 
manity  to  his  slaves, — for  he  was  a  notoriously  hard  master, 
and  made  great  crops, — but  by  want  of  moral  principle;  and 
he  has  exhibited,  not  merely  an  utter  destitution  of  common 
honesty,  but,  in  the  most  sacred  relations  of  life,  a  profligacy 
and  flagitiousness  of  character,  that  render  his  company  dis 
creditable  to  any  that  keep  it.  I  have  carefully  shunned  all 
intercourse  with  him  for  years.  I  was  long  before  shy,  not 
withstanding  his  professions,  &c.  &c.  Noscitur  e  sorio. 
**Tell  me  your  company,  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  are." 
But  there  is  another  description  of  persons,  of  far  inferior 
turpitude,  against  all  connexion  with  whom,  of  whatsoever 
degree,  I  would  seriously  warn  you.  This  consists  of  men 
of  broken  fortunes,  and  all  who  are  loose  on  the  subject  of 
pecuniary  engagements.  Time  was,  when  I  was  fool  enough 
to  believe  that  a  man  might  be  negligent  of  such  obligations, 
and  yet  a  very  good  fellow,  &c.:  but  long  experience  has 
convinced  me  that  he  who  is  lax  in  this  respect  is  utterly  un 
worthy  of  trust  in  any  other.  He  might  do  an  occasional  act 
of  kindness,  (or  what  is  falsely  called  generosity,)  when  it  lay 
in  his  way,  and  so  may  a  prostitute,  or  a  highwayman;  but 
he  would  plunge  his  nearest  friends  and  dearest  connexions, 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  235 

the  wife  of  his  bosom,  and  the  children  of  his  loins,  into  mi 
sery  and  want,  rather  than  forego  the  momentary  gratifica 
tion  of  appetite,  vanity,  or  laziness.  I  have  come  to  this  con 
clusion  slowly  and  painfully,  but  certainly.  Of  the  Shylocks, 
and  the  smoolh-visaged  men  of  the  world,  I  think  as  I  believe 
you  do.  Certainly,  if  I  were  to  seek  for  the  hardest  of  hearts, 
the  most  obdurate,  unrelenting,  and  cruel,  I  should  find  them 
among  the  most  selfish  of  mankind.  And  who  are  the  most 
selfish?  The  usurer,  the  courtier,  and,  above  all,  the  spend 
thrift. 

If  I  press  this  subject,  it  is  because  (you  will  pardon  me) 
I  have  observed  in  you,  upon  it,  a  sort  of  perversion  of  the 
intellectual  faculty;  an  apparent  absence  to  what  is  passing 
in  the  world  around  you,  and  an  ignorance  of  the  events  and 
characters  of  the  day,  that  has  caused  in  me  I  know  not  whe 
ther  most  of  surprise  or  vexation.  My  terms  are  strong, 
and  such  as  you  are  in  no  danger  of  hearing  from  the  sort  of 
people  I  speak  of;  unless,  indeed,  you  should  happen  to  owe 
them  money  which  it  is  not  convenient  to  pay.  Try  them 
once  as  creditors,  and  you  will  find  that  even  the  Shylocks, 
we  wot  of,  are  not  harder.  Indeed,  their  situation  enables 
them  to  give  the  victim  a  sort  of  respite,  which  the  others 
cannot  grant. 

Ned  R.  writes  that  Mrs.  R.,  of  Obslo,  cannot  yet  bear  to 
see  him,  and  he  knows  not  what  to  do.  Poor  lady !  if  she 
had  had  a  religious  education,  it  would  not  have  been  so. 
He  also  says,  that  Barksdale  was  soused  in  Skinny  Creek, 
on  his  way  from  Petersburg,  and  had  nearly  perished  from 
cold. 

I  am  sorry  for  C's.  and  Harry  T's.  mishap  and  loss.  Has 
Dr.  B.  left  Richmond?  Remember  me  to  him,  &c,  I  need 
not  specify. 

God  bless  you ! 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

I  am  always  glad  to  hear  from  Amelia,  because  I  have  re- 


236  LETTERS  OF 

ceived  kindness  there:  but  those  people  dislike  business,  love 
amusement;  and  the  issue  need  not  be  foretold. 


LETTER  CLXXXIV. 

Monday  Morning,  Jan.  21,  1822, 

I  HAVE  just  received  your  letter  of  Saturday,  which  I 
read  with  much  pleasure;  although  I  cannot  think  you  are 
right  in  giving  up  exercise  altogether.  You  know  my  opi 
nion  of  female  society.  Without  it  we  should  degenerate 
into  brutes.  This  observation  applies  with  tenfold  force  ta 
young  men,  and  those  who  are  in  the  prime  of  manhood. 
For,  after  a  certain  time  of  life,  the  literary  man  may  make 
a  shift  (a  poor  one,  I  grant)  to  do  without  the  society  of  la 
dies.  To  a  young  man  nothing  is  so  important  as  a  spirit  of 
devotion  (next  to  his  Creator)  to  some  virtuous  and  amiable 
woman,  whose  image  may  occupy  his  heart,  and  guard  it 
from  the  pollution  which  besets  it  on  all  sides.  Neverthe 
less,  I  trust  that  your  fondness  for  the  company  of  ladies 
may  not  rob  you  of  the  time  which  ought  to  be  devoted  to 
reading  and  meditating  on  your  profession;  and,  above  all, 
that  it  may  not  acquire  for  you  the  reputation  of  Dangler — 
in  itself  bordering  on  the  contemptible,  and  seriously  detri 
mental  to  your  professional  character.  A  cautious  old 
Squaretoes,  who  might  have  no  objection  to  employing  such 
a  one  at  the  bar,  would,  perhaps,  be  shy  of  introducing  him 
as  a  practitioner  in  his  family,  in  case  he  should  have  a  pret 
ty  daughter,  or  niece,  or  sister;  although  all  experience  shows 
that,  of  all  male  animals,  the  Dangler  is  the  most  harmless 
to  the  ladies,  who  quickly  learn,  with  the  intuitive  sagacity 
of  the  sex,  to  make  a  convenience  of  him,  while  he  serves 
for  a  butt,  also. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  237 

The  person  you  first  refer  to,  always  "  appeared,  indeed, 
very  much  my  friend;1'  but  it  was  appearance  only.  When 
you  shall  have  observed  as  much  upon  the  world  as  I  have 
done,  you  will  know  that  such  characters  are  as  incapable  of 
friendship,  or  even  of  conceiving  its  idea,  as  poor  St.  George 
is  of  playing  on  the  flute,  or  comprehending  what  is  meant 
by  the  word  music.  I  wonder  his  attempts  on  my  purse 
never  once  succeeded. 

I  have  a  letter  from  Ryland:  he  is  much  pleased  with  his 
new  position,  and  is,  I  trust,  doing  well.  Of  the  "forbid 
den  fruit,"  I  say,  taste  not,  touch  not,  handle  not  the  thing. 

God  speed  you. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

I  receive  letters  from  E.,  which  I  believe  I  must  get  you 
to  answer  for  me. 


LETTER  CLXXXV. 

Tuesday,  Jan.  22,  1822. 
DEAR  THEODORE, 

WHO  bought  the  within  named  stock  of  horses  and 
asses,  and  at  what  prices? — also,  the  wine,  and  at  what  price? 
If  I  had  seen  the  advertisement  in  time,  I  would  have  pur 
chased  a  few  dozen;  but  the  sale  was  over  before  I  saw  it. 

What  think  you  of  my  correction  of  the  within?  Show 
it  to  E.,  and  ask  her  opinion;  also,  if  she  has  read  Don  Quix- 
otte  and  Gil  Bias,  yet— I  presume,  the  latter,  of  course:  but, 
of  the  first,  she  ought  to  procure  Jarvis's  translation. 

Have  you  suffered  your  French  to  slip  through  your  me 
mory?  I  hope  no,  but  I  fear  yes;  and  Latin,  too.  Rely 
upon  it  they  are  better  than  the  "  insipids  "  you  talk  of,  or 


238  LETTERS  OF 

the  "  forbidden  fruit/'  which  can  only  make  your  mouth 
water. 

Little  R.  was  well  on  the  27th  of  December,  and  doing 
well.  He  writes  from  Washington,  Mississippi,  on  that 
day,— 

"  After  my  return  from  Virginia,  I  settled  in  this  place, 
where  I  am  permanently  fixed.  My  present  situation 
pleases  me  much  more  than  my  former  one.  I  have  every 
reason  to  believe  that,  in  a  few  years,  I  shall  procure  a  com 
fortable  independence,  until  which  time  I  shall  not  think  of 
returning  to  Virginia.  Indeed,  the  society  in  this  neighbour 
hood  is  so  much  better  than  in  any  other  part  of  the  south 
ern  country,  that  I  am  almost  reconciled  to  an  absence  from 
Virginia." 

Good  morning. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 


LETTER  CLXXXVI. 

Friday,  Jan.  25,  1822. 

YOUR  letter  of  the  23d,  is  just  now  received,  and  I  am  gra 
tified  at  once  more  getting  my  horse;  or,  rather,  at  the  pros 
pect  of  getting  him.  You  say  nothing  of  his  condition — 
shoes,  &c.  1  am  afraid  you  were  too  much  in  a  hurry  about 
him;  because  you  know  it  will  take  Johnny  two  days,  in  the 
stage,  to  get  to  Frederickburg.  Let  me  request  you  to  men 
tion  his  plight,  when  you  received  him. 

Is  it  not,  in  a  great  measure,  (if  not  altogether,)  your  own 
fault,  that  you  are  without  valuable  standard  medical  authors? 
Do  you  remember  my  asking  you  for  a  list  of  such  books, 
that  I  might  traRsmit  it  to  London?  It  would  but  have  di 
minished  the  balance  due  me  by  those  swindlers,  T.  &  M. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  239 

I  should  suppose,  however,  that  the  Richmond  library  would 
afford  you  some  good  reading.  What  has  become  of  your 
Latin  and  French? — the  last,  especially. 

Last  night,  I  had  the  pleasure  to  hear  Mrs.  F.  (whose  con 
cert  I  attended  on  Tuesday  evening)  sing,  in  a  private  party, 
at  Mrs.  O's.  apartments,  at  Georgetown.  I  say  Mrs.  0.,  al 
though  my  invitation  to  dinner  was  from  the  husband — and, 
for  the  evening,  from  the  daughter.  She  sang  "  There's  nae 
Luck  aboot  the  House,"  and  some  other  simple  airs,  very  plea 
singly;  (although  I  have  heard  them,  frequently,  better  sung;) 
but  I  found  she  could  not  accompany  herself  on  the  piano,  be 
ing  out  of  time,  and  playing,  sometimes,  false  notes.  Never 
theless,  we  had  a  very  pleasant  party;  and,  at  half  past  ten,  I 
mounted  Wildfire,  and  alone,  (Witch  being  lame — for  life,  I 
fear,)  came  home  like  a  flash  of  lightning.  She  is  very  scary, 
(the  word  is  not  English,  and  I  have  no  time  to  seek,  in  my 
mind,  for  a  better,)  and,  at  the  sight  of  a  carriage,  rattling  over 
the  frozen  road,  with  two  glaring  lamps  in  front,  meeting  her, 
put  all  my  horsemanship  in  requisition.  The  cold  was,  and 
is,  intense. 

Tell  Dr.  B.  I  have  got  his  letter  of  the  23d,  but  am  deep 
with  T.,  on  the  bankrupt  bill,  and  cannot  write  by  this 
mail. 

Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

A  very  skilful  physician,  who  has  studied  my  constitution, 
going  on  three  years,  says  there  is  no  salvation  for  me  but 
removal  to  another  climate,  and  a  particular  course,  which  he 
has  prescribed. 


240  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CLXXXVII. 

Washington,  Sunday  Morning, 
January  27,  1822. 

YOUR  letter  of  the  25th  has  just  now  come  in,  with  my  cof 
fee,  and  I  find  it  more  exhilarating  than  even  that  refreshing  be 
verage;  although  I  am  now  taking  a  long  (possibly,  a  final) 
farewell  of  it.  My  disease  has  gained  upon  me  so  rapidly, 
that  I  have  just  despatched  a  note  to  my  good  friend,  Frank 
K.,  requesting  a  daily  supply  of  new  milk  from  Mrs.  K's. 
dairy.  To  it  and  crackers  (bis  cuites)  I  shall  confine  myself 
strictly,  for  at  least  six  weeks;  unless  I  find,  at  the  end  of  one- 
third  of  that  term,  that  animal  food,  of  a  solid  kind,  is  indis 
pensable  to  me.  1  have  used  no  other  bread  besides  crack 
ers,  (Jamieson's,)  heated  over  again,  for  some  time.  My 
breakfast  is  two  of  these,  and  as  many  cups  of  coffee;  but  not 
like  old  E's.  At  dinner,  I  take  the  lean  of  roast  mutton,  or 
the  breast  of  a  turkey  or  pheasant,  (without  gravy,)  and  rice; 
abstaining  from  salted  and  smoke-dried  meats  and  vegetables. 
My  drink  is  toast  and  water,  made  by  boiling  the  latter,  and 
pouring  it  on  highly  toasted  bread — so  that  it  acquires  the  co 
lour  of  Cogniac  brandy.  I  had,  until  the  day  before  yester 
day,  indulged  in  a  few  glasses  of  genuine  Madeira;  shunning 
all  other  liquors,  whatsoever; — but  now  I  have  given  up 
that  indulgence:  for  my  experience  in  1817,  proved  the  hurt 
ful  effects  of  stimuli,  in  any  shape;  and  I  now  labour  under 
the  same  form  of  disease.  I  have  taken,  once  or  twice,  one 
grain  of  calomel,  at  night,  and,  frequently,  magnesia  and  rhu 
barb.  I  have  also  used  alkalies,  in  the  form  of  salt  of  tartar 
and  potashes:  the  latter  having  been  recommended  to  me; 
although  I  cannot  see  in  what  it  can  differ  from  the  other. 
Yesterday,  I  dined  out  with  the  speaker.  I  would  not  have 
gone  for  any  other  "  dignitary  "  here.  I  made  Johnny  carry 
my  clolh  shoes,  and  a  bottle  of  toast  and  water.  The  colour 
deceived  the  company,  except  one  or  two  near  me,  whom  I 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  241 

was  obliged  to  let  into  the  secret,  to  preserve  my  monopoly. 
Notwithstanding  all  this,  I  am  persuaded  that  I  was  the  live 
liest  man  in  the  whole  company;  and,  like  Falstaff,  was  not 
only  merry  myself,  but  the  cause  of  mirth  in  others.  Mr.  Se 
cretary  C.,  I  think,  will  remember,  for  some  time,  some  of 
my  rejoinders  to  him,  half  joke  and  three  parts  earnest,  (as 
Paddy  says,)  on  the  subject  of  the  constitutional  powers  of 
Congress,  and  some  other  matters  of  minor  note — although 
he  tried  to  turn  them  off  with  great  good  humour.  To  say 
the  truth,  I  have  a  sneaking  liking  for  C.,  for  "  by-gone's  " 
sake;  and  if  he  had  let  alone  being  a  great  man,  should  have 
"  liked  him  hugely,"  as  Squire  Western  hath  it. 

I  had  the  pleasure  to  pass  a  very  pleasant  evening  in  George 
town,  at  B's.,  (plim  C's.,)  on  Thursday  last.  I  dined  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  0.,  and  Mr.  K.,  of  New  York.  After  dinner, 
Miss  0.  had  a  small  party  of  about  half  a  dozen,  exclusively 
of  Mrs.  F.,  who  sang  for  us  some  Scotch  airs,  in  a  very 
pleasing  style.  Among  others,  she  sang  "  There's  nae  Luck 
aboot  the  House  "  very  well,  and  "  Auld  Lang  Syne. "  When 
she  came  to  the  lines 


;  We  twa  ha'e  paidlet  in  the  burn, 
Frae  morning  sun  till  dine," 


I  cast  my  mind's  eye  around  for  such  a  "  trusty  feese,"  and 
could  light  only  on  T.,  (who,  God  be  praised!  is  here,)  and 
you  may  judge  how  we  meet.  During  the  time  that  Dr.  B. 
was  at  Walker  M's.  school,  (from  the  spring  of  1784,  to  the 
end  of  1785,)  I  was  in  Bermuda;  and  (although  he  was  well 
acquainted  with  both  my  brothers)  our  acquaintance  did  not  be 
gin  until  nearly  twenty  years  afterwards.  Do  you  know  that  I 
am  childish  enough  to  regret  this  very  sensibly?  for,  although 
I  cannot  detract  from  the  esteem  or  regard  in  which  I  hold  him, 
nor  lessen  the  value  I  set  upon  his  friendship,  yet,  had  I  known 
him  then,  I  think  I  should  enjoy  "  Auld  Lang  Syne"  more, 
when  I  hear  it  sung,  or  hum  it  to  myself,  as  I  often  do. 

You  may  remember  how  bitter  cold  it  was  on  Thursday. 
The  change  took  place  about  midnight  of  Tuesday.     I  slept 

31 


242  LETTERS  OF 

the  fore  part  of  it  with  my  window  hoisted,  and  rose  about 
two  o'clock  on  Wednesday  morning,  and  shut  it  down.  Well! 
I  rode  from  Georgetown  home,  after  ten  o'clock,  without  suf 
fering,  in  the  least,  from  the  cold,  except  a  little  in  the  fingers. 
This  was  neither  owing  to  the  warmth  infused  by  Mr.  O's. 
very  fine  old  Madeira,  nor  by  his  daughters'  beauty  and  ac 
complishments;  although  either,  I  believe,  would  have  kept 
up  the  excitement  for  a  longer  time  than  it  took  Wildfire  "  to 
glance"  along  "the  Avenue."     But,  superadded  to  the  in 
fluence  of  wine,  and  beauty,  and  music,  and  good  company,  I 
had  a  leathern  "justicore,"  as  old  Edie  would  call  it,  (just a. 
au-corps,}  under  my  waistcoat — which  I  recommend  to  all 
who  desire  to  guard  against  our  piercing  winds — and  cloth 
shoes  over  my  boots.     My  horsemanship  was,  indeed,  put 
into  requisition,  on  meeting  a  rattling  hackney  coach,  with 
lights,  driving  at  a  furious  rate.    It  was  where  "  the  Avenue  " 
is  crossed  by  a  gutter,  and  impeded  by  ice.     Nevertheless,  I 
did  what  Cambey  *  could  not  do  with  his  wretched  curb-bri 
dle — and,  as  Simon t  says,  "  I  consequenced  her  with  a  S7iap- 
per."     My  disease,  which  had  been  very  troublesome  for 
some  days,  and  particularly  that  morning,  and  which  I  had 
checked,  "  for  the  nonce,"  with  absorbents,  recurred,  with  ten 
fold  violence,  in  the  night.     My  apartment  is  tinwholesome- 
ly  warm,  in  spite  of  all  I  can  safely  do  to  ventilate  it.     I  rise 
before  day,  make  up  my  fire,  and,  at  clay  light,  raise  my  win 
dows,  (unless  the  "  weather  "  drives  in,)  however  cold  it  may 
be.     The  stage-coach  men  return  my  salute  every  morning, 
and  I  find  the  air  quite  "  caller  "  and  refreshing. 

I  have  just  got  a  letter  from  G.,  in  Frederickburg,  to  whom 
I  wrote,  immediately  on  the  receipt  of  your  penultimate.  It 
is  dated  yesterday,  (the  26th.)  He  writes,  "  Your  horse  was, 
agreeably  to  your  expectations,  delivered  here  on  yesterday," 
(which  "on,"  prefixed  to  "  yesterday,"  is  a  wretched  barba 
rism,  of  modern  date.  In  poetry,  I  have  seen  "  on  yester 
night;  but  the  day  was  never  put  upon  stilts,  even  in  blank 

*  His  overseer.  |  His  groom. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  243 

verse.)  "  I  had  anticipated  your  wishes  as  to  having  him  well 
shod;  the  shoes  on  him  being  very  much  worn,  and  one  of 
them  broken.  He  is  in  pretty  good  condition,  and,  I  pro 
mise  you,  shall  not  be  worsted  by  remaining  in  my  stable,"  &c. 

If  you  can,  conveniently,  send  me  the  prices  of  the  live 
stock,  (a  list  of  which  I  enclose  you,)  purchased  by  "  Mr. 
L.,"  I  will  thank  you.  Return  the  list,  or  get  a  copy  of  it. 

If  the  carriage  be  actually  described  by  J.  H.  ["  as  good  as 
new,  having  been  used  only  two  or  three  times,"]  and  is  not 
too  heavy  fora  pair  of  horses,  I  will  buy  it,  if  it  can  be  had  on 
a  reasonable  profit  to  the  coach  maker  who  bought  it.  Dr.  B. 
will,  I  am  sure,  be  good  enough  to  look  at  it  with  you,  and 
give  me  his  opinion  about  it.  I  want  one,  sur  le  champ, 
sooner  than  1  can  have  it  made,  and  I  am  on  the  purchase  of 
a  pair  of  boys,  to  replace  poor  old  Sterling  and  his  mate 
Steady.  Spot,  I  fear,  is  irreparably  ruined,  by  a  disease,  which, 
when  of  the  worst  type,  is  as  incurable  as  the  glanders,  or  farey. 
I  succeeded,  you  may  remember,  with  poor  old  Rosetta,  but 
she  always  carried  a  stiff  neck;  but  that  case  was  treated  "  se- 
cundum  artem,"  and  not  in  the  stupid,  sottish  style  of  our 
soi-distant  farriers. 

Show  this  long  tirade  of  egotism  to  the  doctor,  and  tell  him 
that  I  suspect  every  hack  attorney  in  the  house  is  to  "  let  off" 
a  speech  on  the  bankrupt  bill;  although,  from  the  tenor  of  the 
conversation,  yesterday,  at  the  speaker's  table,  I  thank  Hea 
ven,  my  hopes  of  its  defeat  are  greatly  strengthened. 

I  pray  you,  take  to  Latin  and  French.  If  I  were  you,  I 
would  learn  Italian  and  Spanish.  As  I  am  not  you,  but  my 
self,  I  have  begun  the  latter  tongue  at  a  more  advanced  age, 
than  that  at  which  the  elder  Cato  acquired  Greek. 

My  love  to  E.     You  may  give  her  yours  too,  if  you  can 
prevail  upon  her  to  accept  it.     She  is  not  "forbidden  fruit." 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

I  am  proud  of  Mrs.  L's.  remembrance  and  notice.  Tell 
her  so,  if  you  please,  and  mention  me  to  the  C's.,  &c.  &c.,  as 
you  know  how  I  wish  to  be  named  to  them. 


244  LETTERS  OF 

I  trust  Mrs.  B.  is  not  on  the  road  this  dreadful  day.  My 
best  devoirs  to  her.  I  sincerely  congratulate  the  doctor  on 
the  termination  of  his  widowhood,  and  you  and  all  her  friends 
on  her  restoration  to  the  society,  of  which  she  constitutes  the 
"  cynosure. " 


LETTER  CLXXXVIII. 

Friday  Morning,  Feb.  1,  1822. 
DEAR  DOCTOR, 

OUR  old  acquaintance  Roanoke  made  his  appearance 
yesterday  evening — low  in  flesh,  and  otherwise  much  out  of 
condition.  The  change  in  him,  since  I  left  Richmond,  is 
considerably  for  the  worse — so  that  my  charge  to  the  young 
man  seems  to  have  been  (as  I  surmised  it  would  be)  com 
pletely  thrown  away.  He  (Roanoke)  left  Frederickburg  on 
Monday,  being  rode  by  a  Mr.  L.  (a  very  decent  sort  of  a 
man)  on  that  day,  as  far  as  Dumfries,  where  he  (L.)  had  left 
his  own  horse.  He  led  him  from  thence  here,  (as  he  told 
me,  and  from  his  age  and  appearance  I  have  no  doubt  of  it;) 
but,  in  consequence  of  the  rain  the  day  before  yesterday,  he 
remained  all  that  day  in  Alexandria.  Gray,  at  Frederick- 
burg,  was  good  enough  to  have  him  well  shod  for  me. 

Tell  E.  that  I  was  so  near  losing  the  mail  the  last  time  I 
wrote  to  her,  that,  among  other  words,  I  forgot  to  note  ex 
traordinary,  (which  Walker  pronounces  extrordinary ',  and 
well  bred  and  well  educated  old-fashioned  gentlemen,  extra- 
er'n'ry,  but)  which  our  people  that  want  tp  show  their  spell 
ing,  call  extray  ordinary.  We  do  so  emphasise,  and  syllabise, 
and  vociferate,  that  I  am  persuaded  no  well-bred  man  of  the 
last  generation  could  hardly  understand  one  of  our  modern 
great  men.  If  he  did,  it  would  be  a  punishment  to  him  to 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  245 

listen.     But  my  eyes  ask  a  holiday.     I  do  not  hear  from 
you.     Bon  jour. 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke? 

Southern  mail  due  at  3  o'clock,  A.  M.     Yesterday  got  in 
at  7  o'clock,  P.  M.     Difference  16  hours  in  120  miles! 


LETTER  CLXXXIX. 

Saturday  Morning,  Feb.  22,  1822. 

I  SYMPATHIZE  in  your  distress.  It  is  one  of  the  painful 
circumstances  incident  to  your  profession — but  what  avoca 
tion  is  free  from  them  ?  Instead  of  yielding  to  a  morbid  sen 
sibility,  we  must  nerve  ourselves  up  to  do  and  to  suffer  all 
that  duty  calls  for — in  other  words,  to  do  our  duty  in  that 
station  in  life,  "  to  which  it  has  pleased  God  to  call  us." 
What,  then,  are  we  to  expect  from  a  generation  that  has  been 
taught  to  cherish  this  not  "  fair  defect "  of  our  perverted  na 
ture;  to  nourish  and  cultivate,  as  "  amiable  and  attractive," 
what,  at  the  bottom,  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  the  grossest 
selfishness,  a  little  disguised  under  the  romantic  epithet  of 
"  sensibility!"  This  cant  (worse  than  that  of  "criticism  ") 
has  been  fashionable  since  the  days  of  Sterne,  a  hard-hearted, 
unprincipled  man;  a  cassocked  libertine  and  "free  thinker;" 
who  introduced  it.  Heaven  be  praised!  it  is  now  on  the  de 
cline;  and,  in  a  little  time,  we  may  consider  it,  I  hope,  as  en 
tirely  passee.  Sheridan,  himself,  a  bad  principled  man,  gave 
it  a  home  blow,  in  the  form  of  "  sentiment!"  in  his  very  wit 
ty,  but  immoral  comedy. 

Yesterday,  (or  "on  yesterday,"  as  "it  is  said"  here,)  I 
dined  out;  and,  although  I  carried  (or,  rather,  Johnny  did) 
my  bottles  of  toast  and  water,  and  milk,  I  was  tortured  with 


246  LETTERS  Of 

indigestion.  My  night  has  been  a  most  wretched  one,  and 
all  my  former  symptoms  seem  aggravated.  I  will,  however, 
persevere  throughout  this  month,  at  least.  Indeed,  I  feel  no 
great  difficulty  in  abstaining — none  at  all,  from  wine,  and  all 
fermented  and  distilled  liquors.  The  odour  of  a  fine  fat  can 
vass-back  sometimes  tries  my  self-denial.  Every  other  strong 
drink  but  wine,  is  now  absolutely  distasteful  to  me,  and  1 
have  no  great  propensity  to  that.  Nature's  indications  ought, 
I  am  persuaded,  to  be  oftener  attended  to.  Dr.  B's.  opinion 
of  my  case  was  verified  yesterday.  Mr.  Speaker  B. ,  with  the 
best  intentions  in  the  world,  set  off  wrong  foot  foremost,  and, 
unlike  some  other  hags,  could  not  change  his  feet  in  a  long 
and  very  slow  heat — for  he  made,  as  his  brother  Jemmy  would 
say,  three  "  consecutive  "  decisions,  each  surpassing  the  other 
in  error,  and  forming  a  perfect  climax  of  absurdity.  As  the 
"  southern  speaker,"  I  would  not  appeal  from  the  first  (T's. 
of  New  York,  motion  to  amend  R's.,  by  striking  out  42  and 
inserting  47.)  This,  finally,  was  disposed  of  by  R.,  who 
withdrew  his  motion.  Then  came  another,  "  That  after  the 
question  was  propounded  by  the  chair,  and  before  the  clerk 
had  called,  or  the  member  at  the  head  of  the  column  had  an 
swered,  debate  was  precluded!"  in  the  teeth  of  common 
sense,  of  his  own  interrogatory,  always  made,  ("  if  the  house 
be  ready  for  the  question  ?  the  clerk  will  proceed  to  call,") 
and  of  the  invariable  practice  of  the  body,  from  the  time  of 
Its  organization.  Out  of  this,  however,  he  was  extricated  by 
the  representation  of  some  of  his  friends,  in  deference  to 
whose  longer  experience,  he  waived  his  own  judgment — but 
that  S.  of  W.,  after  the  debate  had  gone  on,  made  the  point 
anew;  because  it  answered  his  purpose,  and  he  was  entirely 
reckless  of  the  speaker's  feelings  and  situation.  Insinuations 
were  thrown  out,  too,  by  some,  "  of  his  too  great  pliability  to 
what  they  termed  side-bar  counsel;"  (the  Dowlings  cannot 
sink  the  pettifogger:)  perhaps,  too,  S.  of  W.,  seeing  our  reluc 
tance  to  appeal,  thought  we  should  submit  in  silence.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  the  speaker  reaffirmed  his  former  opinion,  and  an 
appeal  was  taken,  by  M.,  of  Vermont,  and  E.,  of  North  Ca- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  247 

rolina,  and  the  decision  reversed  by  more  than  two  to  one. 
It  was  to  bolster  up  this  opinion,  that  £e,  extra-judicially, 
made  another  decision,  the  counterpart  to  Vs.  famous  inter 
pretation  of  the  sense  of  the  previous  question,  where  now 
meant  any  indefinite  future  time,  and  on  which  I  not  only 
obtained  the  laugh  upon  him,  but  he  could  find  but  eight  or 
ten  to  support  him,  in  a  very  full  house.*  I  likeB.,  because 
he  is  a  friend  to  the  strict  construction  of  the  constitution; 
and  I  wanted  to  adjourn,  for  his  sake — which,  at  last,  we  car 
ried,  about  dark,  (re  infecta,}  and  he  was  released  from  his 
embarrassments.  This  long  sitting  in  the  air  operated  on  my 
stomach  as  nauseating  doses  of  antimonials  would  have  done, 
and  I  felt  as  if  I  were  about  to  be  "  abolished,  quite."  At  the 
close  of  the  day,  your  letter  arrived.  The  southern  mails  are 
now  very  irregular.  Even  the  northern  is  not  always  punc 
tual.  There  is  a  fine  road  now  from  this  place  to  Baltimore, 
but  they  have  let  the  bridge,  over  the  Patuxent,  get  out  of 
repair,  as  it  is  seldom  past  fording,  and  the  ice  has,  on  one 
occasion,  stopped  the  coach. 

Tell  E.  that  among  some  Yankee  names,  in  a  late  Boston 
paper,  I  came  across  "Miss  Sybil  Dow,  married  to  Mr.  Cy 
rus  Bump."  Pray  keep  this  name  "for  use,"  as  Mrs.  G. 
hath  it. 

Show  this  letter  to  Dr.  B.,  and  to  no  one  else. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

To  DR.  DUDLEY. 

If  Wm.  L.  comes  to  Richmond,  let  me  know  immediately 
on  his  arrival. 

"  My  Lord  Chancellor  Bacon  is  lately  dead,  of  a  long  and 
languishing  weakness.  He  died  so  poor  that  he  scarce  left 
money  to  bury  him,  which,  though  he  had  a  great  wit,  did 
argue  no  great  wisdom — it  being  one  of  the  properties  of  a 

*  The  same  members,  however,  provoked  by  G's.  folly,  and  want  of  de- 
cency,  reversed  their  own  decision,  before  the  end  of  the  session. 


248  LETTERS  OF 

great  man  to  provide  for  the  main  chance.  I  had  read  that 
it  had  been  the  fortune  of  all  poets,  commonly,  to  die  beg 
gars;  but  for  an  orator,  a  lawyer,  and  philosopher,  as  he  was, 
to  die  so,  it  is  rare." — Epist.  Ho-Eliance — Familiar  letters, 
by  James  Howell. 

If  Bacon's  wonderful  endowments  could  not  cover  his  pro 
digality  and  carelessness  of  money,  (and  the  corruption  which 
grew  out  of  that  culpable  negligence,)  what  shall  we  say  to 
them  that  possess  nothing  of  his  genius  or  acquirements  ? 


LETTER  CXC. 

Monday  Morning,  Feb.  4,  1822. 
Five  o'clock. 

I  HAVE  been  up  since  half  past  one.  Yesterday  I  dined 
by  accident  with  Mr.  K.  at  the  Union  in  Georgetown,  and 
though  I  had  toast  and  water,  I  missed  my  milk.  I  drank, 
too,  at  the  earnest  recommendation  of  some  of  the  party, 
some  old  Port  wine,*  which  has  done  me  no  good.  My 
dinner  was  the  lean  of  a  very  fine  haunch  of  venison,  with 
out  any  gravy,  and  a  little  rice.  Since  it  began  to  rain 
(about  an  hour  ago)  I  have  felt  as  restless  as  a  leech  in  a 
weather  glass,  and  so  I  sit  down  to  write  to  you.  On  Satur 
day  I  had  a  narrow  escape  from  a  most  painful  death.  Wild 
fire  dashed  off  with  me  on  the  avenue,  alarmed  at  a  tattered 
wagon-cover,  shivering  in  the  wind,  and  would  have  dashed 
us  both  to  pieces  against  an  Italian  poplar;  but  when  she  was 
running  full  butt  against  it,  and  not  a  length  off,  by  a  violent 
exertion  of  the  left  heel  and  right  hand  I  bore  her  off.  There 
was  not  the  thickness  of  the  half  quire  of  paper  on  which  I 

*  For  my  complaint. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  249 

am  writing  between  my  body  and  the  tree.  Had  I  worn  a 
great-coat,  or  cloth  boots,  I  must  have  touched — perhaps 
been  dragged  off  by  them:  and  had  I  been  without  spurs,  I 
must  have  lost  my  life;  for  the  centre  of  her  forehead  and 
that  of  the  body  of  the  tree,  nearly,  or  quite  two  feet  in  di 
ameter,  were  approaching  to  contact.  You  know  my  great 
liking  for  this  exotic,  which  our  tasteless  people  have  stuck 
every  where  about  them.  I  shall,  hereafter,  dislike  it  more 
than  ever.  In  the  course  of  my  life  I  have  encountered 
some  risks,  but  nothing  like  this.  My  heart  was  in  my 
mouth  for  a  moment,  and  I  felt  the  strongest  convictions  of 
my  utter  demerit  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  my  heart  gushed 
out  in  thankfulness  for  his  signal  and  providential  preserva 
tion.  What,  thought  I,  would  have  been  my  condition  had 
I  then  died.  "  As  the  tree  falls,  so  it  must  lie."  And  I  had 
been  but  a  short  time  before  saying  to  a  man,  who  tried  to 
cheat  me,  some  very  hard  and  bitter  things.  It  was  a  poor 
auctioneer,  who  had  books  on  private  sale.  He  attempted  to 
impose  upon  me  in  respect  to  some  classical  books  of  which 
he  was  entirely  ignorant,  and  I  exposed  his  ignorance  to  the 
people  in  the  shop,  many  of  whom  were  members  of  Con 
gress,  and  no  better  informed  than  him.  The  danger  that  I 
escaped  was  no  injury  to  the  speech  which  I  made  out  of 
breath,  on  finding,  when  I  reached  the  house,  that  there  was 
a  call  for  the  previous  question.  So  true  is  it,  that  of  all 
motives,  religious  feeling  is  the  most  powerful. 

I  am  reading,  for  the  second  time,  an  admirable  novel 
called  "  Marriage."  It  is  commended  by  the  great  unknown 
in  his  "Legend  of  Montrose."  I  wish  you  would  read  it. 
Perhaps  it  might  serve  to  palliate  some  of  your  romantic 
notions  (for  I  despair  of  a  cure)  on  the  subject  of  love  and 
marriage.  A  man  who  marries  a  woman  that  he  does  not 
esteem  and  treat  kindly,  is  a  villain:  but  marriage  was  made 
for  man;  and  if  the  woman  be  good-tempered,  healthy,  (a 
qualification  scarcely  thought  of  now-a-days,  all-important 
as  it  is,)  chaste,  cleanly,  economical,  and  not  an  absolute  fool, 
she  will  make  him  a  better  wife  than  nine  out  of  ten  deserve 

32 


250  LETTERS  OF 

to  have.  To  be  sure,  if  to  these  beauty  and  understanding 
be  added,  all  the  better.  Neither  would  I  quarrel  with  a 
good  fortune,  if  it  has  produced  no  ill  effect  on  the. possessor — 
a  rare  case. 

I  was  in  hopes  you  would  not  let  Gr.  carry  off  E.  from 
you.  That  you  may  soon  possess  her,  or  some  other  fair 
lady,  is  my  earnest  wish.  The  cock  crows  for  day,  I  sup 
pose;  but  it  is  yet  dark,  and  I  wish  you  good  morning.  "  It 
vanished  at  the  crowing  of  the  cock."  Show  this  to  Dr.  B. 
Yours,  truly, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 

Your  letter  of  the  2d  is  just  received.     I  will  not,  never- 
theless,  cancel  this,  which  I  must  close  to  save  the  post. 


LETTER  CXCI. 

Washington,  Tuesday,  Feb.  5,  1822. 
Sunrise. 

I  HAVE  seldom,  if  ever,  received  a  letter  from  you  that 
gratified  me  more  than  that  of  yesterday,  which  I  had  bare 
ly  time  to  acknowledge  in  two  lines  of  postscript.  Your 
medical  advice  is  very  thankfully  received,  and  will  be  fol 
lowed,  (I  shall  first  give  the  milk  a  fair  trial,)  so  far  as  my 
own  experience  does  not  run  counter  to  it.  Your  reluctance 
, hitherto  towards  giving  it,  has  more  than  once  been  noted 
by  me,  and  ascribed  to  its  real  cause.  I  have  found,  howe 
ver,  a  valuable  counsellor  in  our  kinsman,  Dr.  Hall,  for  such 
he  is;  his  great  grandfather,  on  the  mother's  side,  being  Ro 
bert  Boiling,  brother  to  Drury  Boiling,  my  maternal  great 
grandfather,  from  whom  you  are  removed  one  generation  far- 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  251 

ther;  which  Drury  and  Robert  were  sons  of  Robert  B.,  (of 
the  West  Riding  of  York,  Boiling  Hall,  near  Bradford,)  by 
his  second  wife,  Miss  Slith;  (his  first  being  the  grand-daugh 
ter  of  Pocahontas,  by  whom  he  had  one  son,  John,  from 
whom,  by  his  wife,  Mary  Kennon,  my  paternal  grandmother 
sprang.)  From  this  first  marriage,  descend  the  Boilings  of 
Chesterfield  and  Buckingham,  in  the  male  line;  and  the 
Curies  Randolphs,  Flemings,  Gays,  Eldridges,  and  Murrays, 
in  the  female. 

As  I  have  recommended  " Marriage"  to  you,  (the  book, 
I  mean,)  this  digression  on  genealogy,  and,  perhaps,  some 
other  coincidences,  may  remind  you  of  the  "  very  sensible 
Miss  Jacky,"  and  her  agreeable  sisters.  You  entirely  mis 
take  my  mode  of  life:  I  am  very  rarely  out  of  bed  at  nine, 
and  when  I  exceed  that  hour,  it  is  not  at  "  evening  parties." 
I  have  been  at  several,  but  rarely  failed  to  be  at  home  before 
nine.  Last  night  I  was  seduced,  by  a  book,  to  go  beyond 
that  hour,  a  little.  Do  you  suppose  (requiring  so  much  rest 
as  I  do)  that  I  could  rise  every  morning  before  the  dawn,  if 
I  sat  (or,  as  the  V.  P.  says,  "so/,"  most  "unhappily,")  up 
late  at  night?  The  other  day  I  dined  at  the  French  minis 
ter's.  It  was  Saturday;  "Mrs.  De  N's.  night."  At  half 
past  seven  we  joined  the  evening  visiters,  and  at  half  past 
eight  I  was  snug  in  bed.  To  be  sure,  I  was  politely  re 
proached,  as  I  was  going  away,  by  the  Count  de  Menou,  (se 
cretary  of  the  legation,)  whom  I  met  on  the  staircase,  and 
since  by  his  principal,  for  going  away  so  early;  but  my  plea 
of  weak  health  satisfied  their  jealousy.  This  is  felt,  and 
shown,  too,  by  all  here,  in  the  highest  ranks  of  fashion.  The 
De  N's.,  however,  are  good  people.  Madame  is  charity  it 
self.  The  poor  will  miss  her  when  she  goes  away.  One  of 
her  sayings  deserves  to  be  written  in  letters  of  gold:  "  When 
the  rich  are  sick,  they  ought  to  be  starved;  but  when  the 
poor  are  sick,  they  should  be  well  fed."  This  is  no  bad  me 
dical  precept. 

I  cannot  "go"  the  "Cogniac."  I  had  rather  die,  than 
drink,  habitually,  brandy  and  water.  Look  around  you,  and 


LETTERS  OF 

see  its  ravages.  Thank  God,  it  does  not  possess  any  allure 
ment  for  me.  I  have  sometimes  been  the  better  for  a  little 
brandy  toddy,  but  I  have  not  tasted  spirits  for  six  weeks,*  or 
more;  and  never  shall  again,  but  as  medicine.  Genuine  Ma 
deira  is  the  only  thing,  except  good  water,  that  I  can  drink 
with  pleasure,  or  impunity:  not  always  with  the  last;  some 
times  with  neither.  It  was  the  pearl  ashes  that  I  was  advised 
to  use  by  Mr.  Golden.  It  is,  I  believe,  a  refined  potash.  I 
knew  its  caustic  quality,  which  the  salt  of  tartar  also  pos 
sesses  in  a  less  degree.  I  substitute  a  weak  solution  of  it 
(salt  of  tartar)  for  the  charcoal  powder,  in  cleaning  my  teeth. 
The  pearl  ashes  I  gave  up  at  first  trial. 

Rely  upon  it,  that  to  love  a  woman  as  "a  mistress,"  al 
though  a  delicious  delirium,  an  intoxication  far  surpassing 
that  of  Champagne,  is  altogether  unessential,  nay,  perni 
cious,  in  the  choice  of  a  wife;  which  a  man  ought  to  set 
about  in  his  sober  senses — choosing  her,  as  Mrs.  Primrose 
did  her  wedding-gown,  for  qualities  that  "  wear  well."  I 
am  well  persuaded,  that  few  love-matches  are  happy  ones. 
One  thing,  at  least,  is  true,  that  if  matrimony  has  its  cares, 
celibacy  has  no  pleasures.  A  Newton,  or  a  mere  scholar, 
may  find  employment  in  study:  a  man  of  literary  taste  can 
receive  in  books  a  powerful  auxiliary;  but  a  man  must  have 
a  bosom  friend,  and  children  around  him,  to  cherish  and  sup 
port  the  dreariness  of  old  age.  Do  you  remember  A.  V.? 
He  could  neither  read  nor  think;  any  wife,  even  a  scolding 
one,  would  have  been  a  blessing  to  that  poor  man.  After  all, 
"suitability"  is  the  true  foundation  for  marriage.  If  the 
parties  be  suited  to  one  another,  in  age,  situation  in  life,  (a 
man,  indeed,  may  descend,  where  all  else  is  fitting,)  temper, 
and  constitution,  these  are  the  ingredients  of  a  happy  mar 
riage — or,  at  least,  a  convenient  one — which  is  all  that  peo 
ple  of  experience  expect.  I  will  not  quote  Rochefoucault, 
or  S.  Johnson,  in  support  of  this;  and  yet  I  cannot  refrain 


*  I  have  not  used  half  a  pint,  since  I  cannot  tell  when— six  months,  at 
least. 


JOHN  RANDOLPH.  253 

from  referring  you  to  five  lines  of  the  latter,  which  the  au 
thor  has  placed  in  the  title  page  of  "Marriage." 

If  my  life  were  to  go  over  again,  I  should  make  a  very 
different  sort  of  thing  of  it,  from  what  it  is.  Community  of 
tastes  and  pursuits,  very  often  vicious  ones,  are  the  founda 
tion  of  most  youthful  friendships.  I  was  most  fortunate  in 
two — Rutledge  and  Bryan.  As  for  Banister,  he  was  as  a 
brother,  from  infancy;  I  could  not  go  amiss  in  him.  One 
great  mistake  that  young  people  commit,  is  associating  with 
persons  of  their  own  age,  &c.,  but  greatly  above  them  in 
point  of  fortune.  One  young  man  can,  perhaps,  afford  to 
spend  a  thousand  dollars,  where  one  hundred  would  embar 
rass  the  finances  of  his  companion.  This  last  must  sink  into 
a  led  captain,  a  boon  companion,  or  sot;  or,  perhaps,  com 
mit  forgery,  or  breach  of  trust,  to  keep  way  with  the  rest. 
Archer  said  to  me  last  night,  "When  a  young  man  conducts 
himself  so  as  to  be  forced  to  borrow  from  his  companions, 
his  independence  and  self-respect  are  gone."  It  is  true. 

At  last,  a  letter  from  Barksdale.  It  came  with  John 
son's,  about  five  minutes  ago.  He  writes — "There  is  a 
general  movement  in  the  neighbourhood:  Everard  Meade 
goes  to  the  Falls  of  the  Black  Warrior;  Banister,  after  wa 
vering  some  time,  between  Norfolk  and  Winchester,  has, 
at  length,  decided  in  favour  of  Petersburg;  and  the  Eg- 
glestons  and  Archers,  some  to  Kentucky  and  others  to 
Florida."  He,  too,  is  about  to  sell  out,  and  remove.  He 
dates,  the  1st  of  February.  Mrs.  R.,  of  Obslo,  is  not  now 
despaired  of.  By  this  time,  if  not  before,  you  must  be  heart 
ily  tired.  Roanoke  begins  to  look  alive.  In  a  month,  or 
two,  he  may  be  fit  to  ride.  When  I  "  lent "  him,  he  was 
seal  fat,  and  in  the  highest  condition.  The  little  mare,  (in 
like  order,)  had  just  been  used  up  by  the  same  person. 
Yours, 

JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 


254  LETTERS  OF 


LETTER  CXCII. 

Monday,  Feb.  11, 1822. 

THE  southern  mail  is  late  to-day:  it  is  half  past  two,  and 
your  letter,  enclosed  herein,  is  just  "received.  I  must  re 
quest  that  my  last  to  you  be  not  put  out  of  your  possession. 
So  much  of  it  as  is  extracted  from  that  to  Mrs.  Crocket, 
which  I  declined  to  send,  you  can  extract  and  send  her,  but 
no  more.  It  is  marked,  I  think,  with  inverted  commas.  Or, 
if  you  enclose  it  to  me,  I  will  make  the  proper  extract,  and 
send  it  to  you,  together  with  the  letter  itself — I  mean  mine 
to  you. 

That  to  which  I  referred,  as  having  been  written  on  the 
same  morning,  I  have  recovered,  and  retain. 

I  am  very  sorry  to  learn  that  E.  is  so  seriously  indisposed. 
I  fear  she  will  go  the  way  of  her  poor  sister.     My  love  to 
her,  when  you  see  her.     I  am  myself  worn  down,  and  have 
suffered  unutterably  during  the  last  twenty  hours.     Adieu! 
JOHN  RANDOLPH,  of  Roanoke. 

DR.  DUDLEY. 


THE  END. 


ERRATA. 


57,  fine   3,  for  "shortening,"  read  shooting. 
«      73,    rt      7,  for  "flash,"  read  flask. 
«      79,    "    23,  for  "  Staunton,"  read  Stenton. 
«      81,    "    11,  from  bottom,  for"  tente,"  read  knit. 
«    109,   "      6,  for  "cases,"  read  cares. 
«    190,   "    11,  for  "Torbisond,"  read  Trebisond. 


RETURN  TO: 


CIRCULATION  DEPARTMENT 
198  Main  Stacks 


LOAN  PERIOD     1 
Home  Use 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS. 

Renewals  and  Recharges  may  b-  v  s  prior  to  the  due  date. 

Books  may  be  renewed  by  callir. 


DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW. 


APR  1  ,1  2 


1 

FORM  NO.  DD6                        UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  BERKELEY 
50M    4-04                                                  Berkeley,  California  94720-6000 

GENERAL  LIBRARY -U.C.  BERKELEY 


/  E 

302 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


